chapter 2
815 Words
"Stanley, Mummy's bringing you some fruit."
As I pushed open the study door carrying the fruit platter, I overheard my son's conversation with his classmate.
"Isn't your mum a financial elite? Why not get her to teach us?"
"Hah," Stanley scoffed. "That was ages ago. Now she's useless, stuck in the kitchen all day. Can't even do primary school maths."
For a second, I couldn’t move. Was this the same child who’d crawl into my arms when feverish? The angel who’d say, "Mummy’s the best"?
"Hi, Mrs. Carter," several classmates greeted politely, their eyes betraying unmasked mockery.
"Let me see what these questions are?" I set down the tray, trying to draw nearer.
"What are you looking at?" Stanley snatched the paper away, the force making it crackle sharply in the air.
"Don't embarrass yourself here. Auntie Alice will be here soon"
Auntie Alice? A chill ran through me.
When had the woman who stole my husband become so close to my son?
"If it weren't for you, I’d be at boarding school already," Stanley stood up. "You’re always holding me back, and you can’t even help me with homework. You’re just... useless."
Tears welled in my eyes as I fled the study.
Behind me came the unrestrained whispers:
"Is that your mother?"
"She looks like a haggard old woman."
"No wonder his dad left her for Alice."
"Even the nanny's better than her, at least she can solve problems."
My phone buzzed. A message from the parents' group.
"Welcome Alice!"
Her reply followed within seconds:
"Thank you all. Stanley is such a sweetheart, I'll take good care of him."
The replies poured in:
“Alice is so thoughtful!”
“She’s gorgeous and she tutors the kids herself.”
“Lucky Stanley!”
I couldn’t breathe.
That weekend, I spotted them at the mall.
Alice had her arm linked through Simon's, Stanley walking between them, looking utterly content.
Alice crouched to tie Stanley’s shoelaces, whispering softly to him until he giggled.
That scene once belonged to me.
Hidden behind a pillar, I watched them stroll into the Michelin-starred restaurant, chatting and laughing.
Last month, on my birthday, I’d wanted to go there. He’d said, "What’s a housewife like you doing in a posh restaurant?"
“Lily? Oh my God, it is you!”A familiar voice came from behind.
I hastily wiped away my tears and turned. It was Emma, my university friend.
"It really is you!" she exclaimed, delighted. "How many years has it been? I heard you married..."
“What are you doing standing here?”Simon's icy voice cut in.
“This is my friend from—”
“She doesn’t work anymore,” he told Emma. “Spends her days shopping for groceries and cooking dinner. Nothing exciting to talk about.”
Turning to Alice, he added lightly,
“Why don’t you chat with her instead? You two have more in common.”
I saw the awkwardness and pity on Emma’s face.
Then Alice extended her hand with a practiced smile.
“I’m Alice,” she said sweetly. “Stanley’s stepmother. And… expecting.”
My heart stuttered.
Expectant mother? I could barely breathe.
"Ding—" My phone buzzed. A message from the bakery:
"Your birthday cake has been successfully reserved. Delivery at 9am sharp the day after tomorrow."
The day after tomorrow was Stanley's birthday. Cake, balloons, limited-edition trainers—I'd prepared for so long, just to see his happy smile.
"Oh, right," Simon suddenly said, "Alice and I are taking Stanley to Disneyland for his birthday the day after tomorrow. You needn't bother preparing anything."
My hands trembled as I opened my phone's photo gallery.
The screen displayed the design for the basketball-themed cake, modelled after a drawing Stanley had given me when he was six.
Scrawled across it in crooked letters: "For the best mum in the world!"
Back then, he’d said, "Mum, I’m going to be a basketball star. My very first championship trophy will be for you!"
Now, he wouldn’t even spend his birthday with me.
"Thud—" The shopping centre’s glass doors slammed shut before me.
Through the glass, I watched them happily ordering their meal. Alice gently wiped Stanley's mouth, while Simon gazed at them with doting affection.
That was once my place, my husband, my son.
Standing in the garage, I stared at my reflection in the rear-view mirror.
Stanley's words echoed in my ears: "You're the best mum in the world."
But now, I've forfeited even the right to be called a mother.
Car after car drove past me, carrying happy families away.
Only I remained, like a ridiculous clown, left behind by everyone.
Tears blurred my vision as I clenched my mobile phone.
It's alright. The day after tomorrow is Stanley's birthday. I must let him know that Mummy will always love him.
I can try again, can't I?
- Writer
