Chapter 2

2

It was my little grandson, Leo. He was driving the electric toy car I had bought for him, ramming it repeatedly into my shin.

I blinked back my tears and looked at the chubby little boy.

"Leo, sweetheart, what are you doing? Did you miss Grandma?"

He kept his head down, gripping the tiny steering wheel without answering, his face tight with anger.

He backed the toy car up a few feet, then hit the pedal to ram into me again.

Noticing his intention, I took a quick step back to dodge the blow.

Before I could even ask him why he was acting out, he threw a tantrum and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Bad Grandma Loretta! I want to hit you! You're not allowed to dodge!"

It seemed I had truly spoiled him rotten.

Over the years, both my grandson and granddaughter had treated me like a target for their pranks, and I had never had the heart to discipline them harshly.

Whenever I showed genuine frustration, my children would always dismiss it. "Mom, don't take it so seriously. He's just playing with you."

Seeing that his attack missed, Leo backed up the car again, preparing for another charge.

This time, I didn't tolerate it. I reached down, lifted him straight out of the toy car, and set him firmly on the grass.

For the first time in his life, he saw real anger on my face.

My voice sounded raspy as I looked at him sternly.

"Go find your parents right now and tell them―"

Before I could finish my sentence, the boy burst into loud, theatrical wails.

"Bad Grandma Loretta! Mommy, Daddy, she won't let me hit her! I want Grandma Rosalie!"

He was already calling that woman his grandmother.

His shrieks instantly drew the attention of my son and daughter-in-law.

The moment my daughter-in-law, Megan, saw me, her beaming smile vanished, replaced by a sullen grimace.

My son, Bradley, looked equally mortified.

He lowered his head and walked over slowly, trying to look apologetic.

"Mom, let me explain."

"Aunt Rosalie said her health is failing rapidly, and her dying wish was to experience a real wedding before she passes away."

"Dad only agreed to grant her wish. We bought you that vacation package because we didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Don't worry, Mom. The moment you get back from your trip, we'll make Dad file for divorce immediately."

A real wedding? File for divorce?

I froze, catching the slip in his words. "What do you mean, file for divorce?"

Bradley realized what he had let slip and quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

My gaze turned hollow, and my voice trembled uncontrollably.

"So they didn't just throw a party. They actually signed legal marriage papers at the registry office."

"No wonder you were so eager to send me on a trip after sixty years of never letting me leave the house. I should have known."

"If I didn't leave, how could you clear out the house for your new Grandma Rosalie?"

Looking back, the divorce had felt suspicious from the start. Why would Douglas, a man who hated seeing me step foot outside the neighborhood, suddenly encourage me to travel?

I had known about his lingering feelings for Rosalie for years. Having lived with him for six decades, I understood him better than anyone.

Yet I never imagined that the children I raised with my own blood and sweat would conspire against me like this.

Seeing my blank expression, Bradley assumed I was just sulking and offered a half-hearted apology.

What good was an apology now?

I looked at my son with profound disappointment.

Under my steady, piercing gaze, Bradley grew increasingly irritated. With his lifelong short temper, he couldn't stand being scrutinized like this.

He furrowed his brow and barked at me in frustration.

"You stubborn old woman, stop being so difficult! We paid for your vacation, so just go and enjoy it! Stop making a scene!"

"You're simply not as gentle or refined as Aunt Rosalie, and we don't want you as our mother anyway. What are you going to do about it?"

Looking at my raging son, and then at the elderly newlyweds accepting toasts nearby, a laugh escaped my lips.

It was utterly pathetic.

I had given up everything and devoted my entire life to a family like this.

I had poured endless time, energy, and care into them, and what did I receive in return?

Lies, insults, and betrayal.

I had slaved away for sixty years, yet in their eyes, I was still an unwelcome outsider.

Husband, son, grandson―such warm family titles felt like nothing more than venomous jokes.

This was no longer my home.

With a bitter smile, I ignored my son's shouting, turned on my heel, and walked away from the estate.

If they didn't want me here, there was a place that did.