For the love of BLOOD

Hearing what the father and son said, a chill ran through me.

"It's just a miscarriage, deal with it yourself..."

Their words stabbed at my heart like a swarm of icy needles.

I never thought the man I had cared for over a decade and the son I had lovingly raised for nine years could be so heartless.

"Mom, you're such a buzzkill. If it wasn't for you, I could've been at the amusement park with Ms. Scott today."

Simon Ellison, my son, glared at me, his face twisted in annoyance.

Jonah Ellison, my husband, was irritated, too.

"Mom told me your miscarriage is because you're up all night. It's on you, so don't expect me to feel bad."

However, he never asked why I was up late.

He was always buried in work, forgot meals, and battled a nasty stomach issue.

Every night, I had to brew herbal tea and keep it warm in a thermos so he could have it ready the next day.

Then there's Simon's homework to check and breakfast to prepare for the two of them.

"I'm not expecting your pity."

I found my voice soft but firm.

"Jonah, let's go to the County Clerk's Office and get a divorce tomorrow."

I repeated it, the word 'divorce' hanging between us.

Jonah's eyes narrowed, and his voice lost its edge after a moment of silence.

"Tracy just got back yesterday, and it's her birthday today. You know I've been unfair to her all these years.”

"I'll make it up to you for the miscarriage. How about 15 thousand dollars for a new bag?"

He still thought that was about him not being there for the miscarriage.

That morning, as I was picking up some veggies, I suddenly started bleeding out of nowhere.

Some kind soul rushed me to the hospital, and that's where I got the news: I had lost my baby, no apparent reason why. My little one, only five months along, was gone.

I was a wreck, and I needed Jonah there.

He was the baby's dad, after all.

However, when I tried calling him, I got nothing but voicemail.

Then I saw his latest post—a video.

Tracy Scott was sitting pretty in a hotel room, eyes closed, making a birthday wish over a cake.

Jonah and Simon were there, singing Happy Birthday to her.

Then Simon steps up with that gift he made himself.

"Ms. Scott, I've been working on this purse for a month, just for you. Hope you love it."

He was blushing, all shy and proud.

I had been there for Simon since he was a baby, literally 24/7. I did everything from changing diapers to teaching him his first words and how to walk.

When he started grade school, I was the one up at dawn, preparing breakfast and helping him with homework after class.

Without my help, he would have had a chance at getting into Greenfield City's top elementary school.

However, did he remember any of that? No, to him, I was just the boring mom who nagged about homework and bedtime.

He knew when my birthday was, but he acted clueless every year never bothered with a gift.

Jonah? Ten years of marriage, ten years of me looking after him—brewing his herbal tea, reminding him to eat.

He's got me pegged as dull, too. I have overheard him telling his buddies how old-school I am, with nothing to my name but chores.

He never once threw me a birthday bash and said it was a pointless time-sink.

However, Tracy's birthday? Oh, he was all in for that.

Like father, like son. I guessed she had them both wrapped around her finger.

However, what really bothered me was not that, and I was not holding any grudges against him.

I just realized that after a decade of the same old routine, neither his heart nor our son's was with me. To them, I was just plain dull.

I was worn out and done with being a stay-at-home mom.

"I don't want anything from you, just a divorce. You can keep our son."

At that moment, I felt a wave of peace wash over me.

I finally told Jonah the words that had been burning inside me for ages.