Chapter 2

Mia's POV

I stated flatly, "I still remember the death pact we made under the shooting star back then—and it seems like it does come true. You can rest assured that I'll die far away from here and stay out of your hair, Hugh—"

Hugh abruptly rose to his feet before I could even finish my sentence, his eyes turning completely bloodshot.

He swatted the pen out of my hand and barked, "What are you trying to pull this time to keep me from leaving, Mia? Did you really think I'd fall for it just because you forged a medical report?"

He then tore up the medical report and the divorce agreement.

I couldn't understand his reaction. He was the one who wanted a divorce and to leave me back then. I agreed to let him go—I could even vanish from his life entirely—yet he didn't seem to want that anymore.

Hugh pulled me out of the private dining room at some point. He held my hand tightly as he explained, "That's enough, Mia. I know I'm in the wrong for faking my death. I'll come back to you as soon as Beatrice gives birth to the baby, Mia…"

I slowly withdrew my hand and shook my head. "You don't have to come back anymore. You should just live your life now. I'll get someone to write up another divorce agreement and send it to you, Hugh."

Hugh frowned as he looked at me, probably realizing that the woman standing before him had changed.

I was calmer and more sensible, but I had also become someone he no longer recognized as Mia White.

In the end, the class reunion wrapped up early because Beatrice started feeling sick from her morning sickness.

I walked behind Hugh and watched him carefully help Beatrice into the car.

Just before leaving, Hugh spoke to me through the car window, "Beatrice is pregnant right now, so keep your crazy antics away from her. Our bad blood is between us—don't go hurting innocent people."

I remained silent. I just watched the car drive away and stood there blankly for a long time. I once believed that people never changed and oaths never grew old, so I held onto the promise stubbornly, waiting for Hugh to return.

I had eventually worn myself down into a lovesick fool, a madwoman, and a sickly shell of a person over the course of five years.

I finally came back to my senses once a message popped up on my phone. I put on my delivery vest, got on the electric bike, and rode off to pick up the delivery order.

I made it back to the diner that evening. Nicholas glanced at me briefly, then turned right back around to keep drawing without a word.

Mr. Smith shook his head and said, "Nicholas hasn't spoken at all today, Mia."

I slowly walked over and sat beside Nicholas. In his artwork, I was youthful and glowing, he had a cheerful grin, and there was a big, beautiful house behind us. I knew that was what he longed for most.

I felt a lump in my throat as tears started landing onto the back of my hand.

Beatrice used to send me photos of her and Hugh sleeping together every few days back when I was pregnant with Nicholas. Then, after I blocked her number, she actually printed them and mailed them to my address.

I threw the photos at Hugh and had repeated breakdowns, telling him to drop dead. He just stared at me calmly and said, "If you can't stand it anymore, then ask for a divorce. You're the one who refuses to let me go, Mia."

I received news, on the day I finally resolved to get a divorce, that Hugh had killed himself by jumping into a river.

That was also the day Nicholas was born. I remembered the doctor telling me that the prolonged stress and severe prenatal trauma I experienced likely increased Nicholas' chance of developing autism-like symptoms.

I gazed at Nicholas, whose face had no expression at all. I felt overwhelmed with guilt, but all I could say was, "I'm sorry…"

I worked three jobs daily to support this small household over the years. I ran myself ragged and wrecked my health. I already knew that I didn't have much time left, but I just wanted to push myself a bit further, make a bit more money, and give Nicholas the good life he deserved.

Nicholas reached up with his warm little hand and wiped away my tears. He looked up at me, still silent.

It was then that someone pushed open the diner door, bringing a gust of cold night air with them. I looked up and saw Hugh walk in. He froze for a second when he noticed me.

Beatrice followed close behind, wearing Hugh's coat. She didn't even bother to look up as she placed an order. "We'll have two bowls of soup of the day."

They chose a table farthest from where I was and took their seats.

I set down their order and was just about to walk away when Hugh suddenly grabbed my wrist. He then asked, "Is this what you do for a living?"

"Yes. I work three jobs, and this is the third one."

I kept my head lowered and didn't notice the hint of concern that flashed in his eyes.

Beatrice coughed softly a couple of times.

Hugh instantly let go of my hand and shifted his attention off me. He scooped up a spoonful of soup, blew on it carefully, and brought it to Beatrice's lips. "You should have some, Beatrice. It'll help keep you warm."

I caught sight of the diamond ring on her ring finger, the glare bouncing off it piercing my eyes.

Just as he was about to head out, Hugh spoke up again. He looked at Nicholas, his tone carrying a strange mix of emotions I couldn't decipher as he asked, "Is he your son?"

I got up, looked him in the eye, and said calmly, "He's your son too, Hugh."