“Ethan, wake up, honey. It's time for school,” I said softly, gently shaking my 7-year-old son awake.
“Fuck off, bitch,” he shrugged me off.
I froze, my hand still lingering in mid-air.
“Ethan, what did you just say?!” my voice trembled with shock and hurt. Did I hear him right?
He sat up, crossing his arms as he glared at me. “You heard me the first time.” He raised his chin defiantly, “Daddy said I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”
My heart squeezed, like air had been knocked out of my lungs. Was that what Ryan had been teaching our son? To disobey me?
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I processed Ethan’s cruel words – and Ryan’s apparent influence behind them.
But I took a deep breath. It was too early to start screaming again. “Your classroom teacher told me you missed the test yesterday. She's giving you another chance today, so you can't miss–”
Ethan rolled his eyes. "So what if I miss it? Daddy said grades don't matter if you have money."
Ryan!!
My blood ran cold. Ryan's toxic influence on their son was staggering. When did this start? How did I not know?
I took another deep breath, trying to get through to my son. He was too young to understand his daddy's shenanigans, and hopefully, I could get through to him. Things have been going wrong lately.
Choosing my words carefully, I smiled, despite my blood boiling. "Ethan, that's not true. Education matters for a better future. Your daddy is a CEO of a big company and we're enjoying riches right now because your daddy took education seriously." I paused, gauging his reaction. Seeing he was listening, I continued. "Education matters to me, Ethan... And it should matter to you too."
He sneered. "Yet you're a housewife all your life, a freeloader.” He hissed. “What good is your education now? What do you bring to the table, if not nagging?” He wasn't done. “Look at Auntie Julia, she's a supermodel, very beautiful, and she doesn't make Sophia and uncle Roman ashamed!” he huffed, “Get out, leave my room, I want to sleep!”
I gasped.
I felt my face hot from the slap, my heart shattering like fragile glass. I swear, I didn't believe those words just came from my son. He used to be the best child anyone could ask for. People envied me for raising a golden child…until few months ago, when our relationship suddenly became strained.
Still, this was too much for a 7 year old to say!
I hated it when the talk of my education was brought up, especially by my family. "I... I gave up everything for you and your father..."
“Leave my room already! The sight of you makes me sick!” Ethan yelled, grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me.
My fist clenched, my body shaking from fury. I could snatch him from that bed and give him a serious beating, like I was raised, but I stopped myself.
I hate the use of violence on children. It left deep scars in my heart and traumatized me for years, and that was why I opted for gentle parenting. Have I been too soft with my son? I shook my head.
This was not entirely Ethan’s fault. I made excuses for him, again.
It was Ryan!
I turned on my heels and ran out with tears in my eyes, slamming the door behind me as I rushed into the next room.
Out of my son’s sight, I broke down against the door. My back leaned on it, uncontrollable tears streaming down my eyes.
Where did I go wrong? Those words he said hurt more than when an adult said them.
Ryan looked up from his phone, coffee in hand, perhaps oblivious to my devastation. "Morning, hon. Sleep okay?"
My body shook violently from the silent sobs as I leaned against our bedroom door, unable to form words.
No one would understand the agony of a mother who couldn't seem to reach her child anymore.
Ryan's expression changed from calm to concern as he took in my state. He set his coffee and phone down and approached me cautiously. "Adele, what's wrong?"


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