Chapter 23.
Could it be that Ajax kept a mistress?
I knew it was irresponsible of me to think that, but what else was I supposed to assume when an unfamiliar number popped up on his screen late at night? I stared at his phone as it buzzed for the third time, the name “Miranda Mills” lighting up the screen. I bit the inside of my cheek, indecision warring with curiosity.
Should I answer?
After a moment’s hesitation, I did.
A syrupy, coquettish voice responded on the other end, “Big brother Ajax, are you home?”
Chapter 57.After a long, contemplative discussion with Ajax, we reached a consensus: Dylan should stay on a leave of absence for the time being. The reports from the Snap parents’ group were alarming—more kids in his class were falling ill with unusual frequency. The pattern was clear enough: a rise in colds, fevers, and lingering coughs. It didn’t make sense to rush him back into the chaos of the classroom just yet. His immune system was still fragile, not yet fully developed, and with the recent outbreaks, sending him back felt like inviting trouble.So, for now, Dylan remained under my care.He had become my little sidekick—my shadow, my apprentice in this makeshift life I was trying to navigate. Every morning, he’d attend the spoken English class, sitting obediently at his tiny desk, repeating phrases after the teacher with a concentration that was almost comical. His bright eyes would light up every time he learned a new word, and he'd practice diligently at home, eager to sho
Chapter 56.When Ajax said he was making longevity noodles, I felt something clench in my chest.At first, I thought he was just hungry. Maybe a late-night craving, maybe a habit I hadn’t noticed before. But when he said those words—“We usually celebrate by eating longevity noodles”—something in the way he looked at the pot of boiling water, at the vegetables in his hands, told me this wasn’t about food. Not really.It was about memory. About ritual. About something that connected him, however faintly, to a family he no longer had.Although there wasn't much said about Ajax in the novel, it was a fact that he had lost his parents at a young age. He had only
Chapter 55It was warm yet I froze.Those few words from Dylan—"Mommy, I gave you lots of kisses. Don't hurt anymore"—completely blindsided me. My chest tightened, caught somewhere between laughter and tears.It took me a moment to catch up and understand what he meant.Of course. He was talking about childbirth. About the pain of bringing a little life into the world.Even though I had never experienced it myself, just using my toes to think—let alone my brain—I knew it had to hurt like hell. In modern times, we had c-sections and epidurals and all sorts of ways to dull the agony, but that didn’t mean it stopped there. A surgical cut through your abdomen and uterus might spare you in the moment, but the aftermath lingered—stitches, soreness, healing flesh. Months of tenderness. Maybe even years.And for the women who gave birth naturally… The pain of labor itself was legendary. A ten out of ten on the pain scale. No, some said it broke the scale entirely.I remembered how one of my
Chapter 54.Since their little family of three had dinner out that evening, Gwyneth gave Susan, the housekeeper half a day off. Though the aunty wasn’t originally from this city, her son and daughter-in-law worked nearby and had purchased a modest home in the area. With the unexpected break, she chose to spend the night at their place and wouldn’t return to the villa until the following morning.When they came home, Ajax noticed Gwyneth looked tired, so he volunteered to handle Dylan’s bath.Bathing their chubby son was practically a workout. The moment Dylan touched water, he transformed into a spirited little dolphin, splashing and squealing. He refused to leave the bathtub for at least half an hour.
Chapter 53.Dylan couldn’t have known it was Ajax’s birthday. That ruled out him as the source. And honestly, there weren’t many people left who still remembered the date. Most of the friends who used to celebrate it with him were now busy with their own lives—juggling families, careers, and the endless responsibilities of adulthood.Even if they hadn’t forgotten, they definitely didn’t interact with Gwyneth enough to have passed on the information. So how had she found out?As if sensing his unspoken question, Gwyneth calmly explained, “When I was looking through some documents earlier today, I happened to come across
Chapter 52.Dylan’s behavior stirred something in me—a memory I hadn’t touched in years. I used to be like that too, back when I was his age. Whenever my parents visited my grandparents’ house, I would cling to my mom’s hand and drag her around proudly, showing her off to anyone who’d look. She never asked me why I did it. And unlike Dylan, I never said why. I just… wanted to.Looking back now, I realized that had been a missed opportunity. Maybe if I had spoken up—if I had told her what I felt—she might’ve understood me a little better. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything. But maybe it could’ve. Who knows?Do parents and children always miss the right timing?When we want to be heard, our parents are often too busy to listen. And by the time they’re ready to listen, we’ve already learned to stay quiet, to keep things to ourselves.I crouched down and wrapped my arms around my soft, chubby little boy. “En, Dylan is Mom’s good child,” I said, my voice full of warmth.He hugged me r