I Raised His Mistress' Child for 18 Years

Mason Fuller's 18th birthday celebration was an extravagant one. The child I'd raised myself had turned into a man with sharp, piercing features and an intimidating air. He looked remarkably similar to the young Simon Fuller.

Simon stood to his left, and on his right was Alicia Reed, who was glowing even at her age.

As for me, Simon's lawfully wedded wife, I stood in the corner, like an outsider spying on their happiness.

"Zoe, get Alicia a glass of water," Simon instructed.

It'd been 18 years now, and he'd grown accustomed to barking orders at me like that. He took it for granted, as if I were the housekeeper and not his wife.

I kept my eyes down and replied agreeably, "Okay."

"Oh, no, Zoe! I couldn't possibly let you wait on me like that. If anyone else saw this, they would think that you liked waiting on people!"

Alicia pretended to sound apologetic, but her gaze was taunting. She even pulled a document from her handbag and tossed it to me.

"But then again, now that Mason is all grown up, don't you think it's time you finally return the title of Mrs. Fuller to whom it rightfully belongs? After all, you've occupied it long enough now," she remarked.

"As it is, Mason is my son. Sure, you put a lot of effort into raising him, but there can't be two ladies of the house."

The surrounding guests began whispering among themselves, their sharp gazes landing on me.

"Poor thing. Zoe raised someone else's son for 18 years, and now, his real mom comes back to reap the rewards."

"Why are you pitying her? She's the one who was greedy for the Fuller family's wealth—or maybe she was dumb enough to pine after someone who doesn't even love her. She tried raising another woman's son for so long just so she could win his love. Well, serve her right!"

These words were like salt being poured over wounds that had long since healed. I didn't argue with anyone. I only looked at Mason, who'd remained silent the whole time. The son I'd personally raised was now standing beside another woman. He simply gave me a short nod.

My heart stung dully.

I trembled as I reached for his arm, my voice choked. "Mason… I'm your mom. Alicia ignored your existence all throughout the last 18 years. I'm the one who—"

"Don't touch me!" Mason yanked his arm away from me, his eyes full of disgust and impatience. "Can't you understand simple words? My mom is back. You're just the nanny. Shouldn't you know your place? Just the sight of your haggard face makes my stomach churn. Get lost!"

"Now that's my son!" Alicia nodded in satisfaction as she took Mason's arm again.

Meanwhile, I stumbled backward and almost fell from how forcefully Mason had pulled away from me.

My heart quivered.

When Mason was five years old, he ran a high fever. Alicia and Simon were too busy enjoying a candlelit dinner to bother taking care of him. I was the one who took him to the hospital and stayed by his side to tend to him. I wiped his sweat and fed him his medicine.

At the time, he'd clutched my hand and begged all night long, "Don't go, Mommy."

But now, he was saying these things to me.

"Fine. I'll go. I'll leave right away and stay far, far away from all of you. I don't want to be a part of this family anymore."