What Happens At The End Of Raising Hare: A Memoir?

That night was supposed to belong to Mia. She had spent a month practicing for her first piano recital. I had cooked all afternoon, set the table, and helped her into the pale blue dress Luca loved. She stood beside the piano, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling with excitement. Then Luca's phone rang. Vivienne was spiraling again. After Luca's older brother died, his widow never really came back from it. On her worst nights, she forgot the difference between the dead husband she had lost and the brother-in-law who kept showing up to save her. And Luca always showed up. Every time Vivienne broke, he left us behind. Every time he came home, he brought apologies, pretty gifts, and promises for next time. And every time, I believed him. Until that night. Before he could make another excuse, I placed the divorce papers in front of him. He signed without reading them, then touched my shoulder like he was the one being generous. "When this is over, I'll make it up to you," he said. "You, me, and Mia. The Maldives. No calls. No interruptions." Then he kissed our daughter's hair and walked out before she played a single note. What Luca didn't know was that Mia's passport was already packed. So was the little suitcase under her bed. I was done waiting for a man who only loved us when no one else needed him. This time, he could come home to an empty house.

My husband, Simon Fuller, brings home his secretary, Alicia Reed, who has just given birth. He expects me to take care of her while she recovers from the delivery. Instead of tossing Alicia's things out, I put on my apron and prepare a nutritious meal. Since then, I've been reduced to the biggest laughingstock in our social circle. Despite being Simon's lawfully wedded wife, I'm treated like the housekeeper. I spend my entire day waiting on Alicia and changing the diapers of Simon's illegitimate son, Mason Fuller. Satisfied with the way I've been fulfilling my role as his dutiful wife, Simon brags to his friends, "Zoe's far too madly in love with me. As long as I don't divorce her, she's willing to put up with all kinds of mistreatment. "She also said that a hired nanny couldn't be trusted and insisted on raising Mason herself." Banking on the fact that she'd given Simon a son, Alicia orders me around like a housekeeper, demanding that I wash her clothes for her. Everyone starts placing bets on when I'll finally lose my mind. The bet ends up going on for 18 years. By now, everyone says I have to be hopelessly in love with Simon. I've willingly sacrificed 18 years of my youth, reduced to being a housekeeper, all in the hopes of winning him back. However, I'm the only one who knows the truth. This whole time, I've been waiting for Mason's 18th birthday party. Once he turns 18, I will finally receive 30% of Fuller Group's shares.

As the price of gold soars, my late mother, Eleanor Hutchinson, appears to me in my dream. She tells me she has left a gold bangle on my nightstand. If I wear them, they'll bring me wealth and bless the child I'm carrying. But after I find the bangle, I give it to the rabid dog the neighbors keep locked up. In my previous life, my younger sister, Irene Owens, and I marry two brothers and become pregnant at the same time. During a prenatal checkup, the doctor says Irene's baby appears to have severe birth defects and recommends terminating the pregnancy. She doesn't take it seriously at all. That very day, Mom comes to me in my dream, and I find the gold bangle on my bedside table. After I tell Irene about it, she slips the bangle onto my wrists. She says, "You always say Mom favors me. But after she dies, you're the first person she thinks of and approaches. Just wear them." I do exactly as she says and never take the bangle off. But on the day we give birth, Irene delivers a healthy baby boy with rosy cheeks and a loud, vigorous cry. My baby, however, is born with two sets of reproductive organs. The child isn't breathing the moment it's delivered. Before this, every prenatal exam has shown that my baby is healthy. I realize Irene and the bangle must have something to do with it. The sight of my horribly deformed baby drives me insane. In a fit of rage, I dig up Mom's grave and confront Irene. "Why does Mom keep paving the way for you even after she's dead?" She has me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I waste away in despair until I die. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mom first appears in my dream.

On the day we're supposed to register our marriage, my girlfriend Jenny Sutton has me removed from the city hall. She walks in with her childhood sweetheart, Ronald Walsh. She looks at me without a flicker of guilt and says, "Ronald's kid needs his legal status sorted out. Once we divorce, I'll marry you." Everyone assumes I'll wait. I'm the devoted fool who's already waited seven years, so one more month seems trivial. That night, I go along with my family's plan and leave the country for a marriage of convenience. I cut myself cleanly out of Jenny's life. Three years later, I return to the country with my wife, Ellie Olsen, who's a CEO, to pay respects at her family's graves. A last-minute issue pulls her away, and she asks the local branch to send someone to pick me up. I didn't expect Jenny, not after three years. "You have dragged this out long enough. Come back. Ronald's kid will be starting kindergarten soon. You can handle the school runs."

In my previous life, I stood by Robert's side as he grew from the Alpha of a weak, remote pack into the undisputed king of the werewolf world. We raised a child together, and I thought I'd finally found a home that could shelter me from all storms. But when I was bedridden with illness, he couldn't wait to take the child and go find his one true love: my little sister, Bellis. And then came the moment that shattered everything — the child I had treasured with my whole heart calling Bellis "Mom" without a second's hesitation. That was when I finally understood. All those years, I had been living inside a lie — a total, elaborate lie. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn, right back to my marking ceremony with Robert. This time, standing at that crossroads, under the gaze of all those guests with their warm, oblivious smiles, I would make a very different choice. What I didn't know yet was that the truth sometimes hides in the small, ordinary moments of life — not in what other people tell you.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.