Chapter 3

The call ended. I stared at the blackened screen, feeling as though something had seized my heart.

It was true. I had nearly died giving birth to our son, Matthew Hayes, but none of them knew the real reason I had haemorrhaged that day.

I didn't go back to the hospital.

The next morning, Samuel showed up at my doorstep with my parents in tow.

The second I opened the door, Dad slapped me across the face. "You ungrateful brat! How dare you come back here?"

His hand trembled with rage as he pointed a finger at me. "Matthew was running a high fever in the middle of the night, screaming for his mother! But where were you? Is your heart made of stone?"

Mom held onto his arm as she cried, "Naomi, come to the hospital with us. Matthew is innocent. No matter what happened between you and Samuel, you can't take it out on the kid."

Samuel stood behind them. His expression was pained. "Honey, I messed up. I shouldn't have called Sienna over. Please, just come back with me. Matthew needs you."

He sounded so sincere that even my parents were moved.

I clutched my burning cheek and looked at the three of them. "Are you finished?"

Dad froze. "What's with that attitude?"

"If you're finished, get out. I need my rest."

I gestured toward the door.

"Why, you—"

Dad was so furious that he raised his hand again, but Mom held him back before he could slap me a second time.

Samuel stepped forward, positioning himself between us. "Mr. Hart, please don't be mad. This is my fault. I handled things poorly, and Naomi was the one who suffered for it."

He turned to me then. His eyes were brimming with tears. "Honey, you can hit me or yell at me all you want, but please don't give up on Matthew and me. After all these years, how can you just walk away from us like that?"

He reached for my hand, but I stepped back before he could touch me.

"Drop the act, Samuel. Aren't you exhausted?"

His expression stiffened for a split second before it was swallowed by profound despair.

"Naomi, what happened to you? This isn't who you are. You used to love Matthew more than anything. You would've done anything to give him the best."

"You're right," I said with a nod. "I used to be quite the fool."

Seeing how stubborn I was, Mom and Dad looked utterly disappointed in me.

"Naomi," Mom sobbed. "If you go through with this divorce, don't you ever come home again. From now on, your father and I will pretend we never had you."

Dad pointed at Samuel. "From now on, Samuel is the only son we have!"

I looked at them, and the last flicker of warmth in my heart finally went cold. "Fine."

That single word caught them all off guard.

They had expected me to buckle under the weight of their ultimatums, just as I had every other time for the last ten years.

However, this time, they were wrong.

After sending them on their way, I received a call from my lawyer, Caroline Foster.

"Ms. Hart, the court summons has been served to Samuel. However, he's gone to the press with the story. He claims you abused Matthew and refused to donate blood because of your marital problems, leaving him in critical condition."

I checked my phone. Sure enough, the story had spread like wildfire.

"The Wicked Wife Refuses to Donate Blood to Biological Son Over Petty Jealousy."

"How Could a Mother Be This Cruel? Seven-Year-Old Boy Tearfully Claims His Mother Doesn't Want Him Anymore."

The comments sections were flooded with vitriol.

My photo, my office address, and even my home address had been leaked. Already, a mob of self-righteous activists had gathered outside my company, brandishing banners and demanding that I be fired.

Before long, my boss called and told me not to bother coming into work for the time being.