Chapter 3

3

By noon, Liam's voice had grown raspy from crying, and he spiked a high fever.

Unable to completely suppress my maternal instinct, I rushed him to the hospital. The nanny held him in her arms, soothing him, while Liam looked away, refusing to make eye contact with me.

I had raised this child with my own hands. I had watched him grow from a fragile, soft baby into a little boy who could run, jump, and yell at me, pouring endless devotion into every single milestone.

Arriving at this point broke my heart over and over again.

"Liam, I'm sorry for hitting you earlier, but you also need to apologize to me for what you said."

I tried to communicate with him, hoping to salvage the fading bond between mother and son.

Liam lashed out, knocking everything off the bedside table. The porcelain mug shattered across the floor, slicing open my ankle and drawing a puddle of blood.

The nanny gasped in horror, while Liam glared at me, his voice hoarse.

"Get out! I don't want you! Chloe is coming soon, and she can be my new mommy! You're not my mother!"

This time, his expression was deadly serious, tinged with a sickening excitement.

I had carried him for nine grueling months and endured the agony of labor without a single complaint, only for my son to discard me like trash.

In that instant, I felt a numbness far colder than death itself.

"Jocelyn, what kind of drama are you staging now?"

At my most vulnerable moment, Declan walked in, holding Chloe's hand. I glanced up at the father and son. They shared the same features and the exact same gaze, both staring at Chloe as if she were their entire world.

Being a child, Liam couldn't hide his emotions. He threw himself straight into Chloe's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Chloe, I don't want my mom anymore. Will you please be my mommy?"

If there was one person I refused to appear pathetic in front of, it was Chloe.

Yet my son didn't care, and neither did my husband.

"Jocelyn, this is a hospital. What are you throwing a fit for? You're a grown woman picking a fight with a little boy. If you can't even take care of your own son, I truly don't know what good you are to this family."

"Just go home. Chloe is here to take care of him."

His tone was heavy with exhaustion, as if dealing with me was an unbearable chore.

Chloe didn't utter a single word. She didn't need to; she had already won. The two most important men in my life were standing firmly by her side. That was her protagonist aura―wherever she went, adoration followed.

What terrified me most was knowing that the novel's plot constraints had long dissolved. My bond with Declan was supposed to be real, and Liam, who was never meant to exist in the original manuscript, couldn't have been influenced by any script.

Their cruelty was entirely genuine. I truly did not belong in this family.

My eyes burned with unshed tears, my knuckles turning white.

Liam immediately stepped in front of Chloe, his small chest puffed out as he glared at me with pure scorn.

"You ugly witch, don't you dare lay a finger on Chloe!"

What a harmonious father-son duo, united in protecting the same woman.

My mind went blank. I couldn't even remember how I made it back to the empty mansion.

The agony was suffocating, so overwhelming that I wished for a swift end just to escape the torture.