Sad to Say Goodbye
Eight years ago, a night of drunken recklessness left me carrying Grayson Ulrich's child.
But from that moment on, he began to hate both me and our daughter.
He never allowed her to call him "Dad." He wouldn't let me step into his study, either.
Because inside that study, every inch of space was filled with traces of another woman—Sandra Wright, the ex-fiancée who had once left him for freedom and happiness, who had gone abroad to marry a rich man.
She was the one Grayson could never forget. The one he still loved.
On our eighth anniversary, Sandra returned.
That night, Grayson got drunk for the first time in years. He held our daughter in his arms and wept until his eyes were red.
My daughter looked at me, bewildered. "Mom, why is Uncle crying?"
I held back my tears and told her softly, "Because he is very happy. The person he loves has finally come back."
Then I said, "So, Mommy's taking you away—so we won't disturb him and the woman he loves, okay?"