Chapter 3
Early the next morning, there was a commotion downstairs.
Followed by Sophia’s exaggerated giggles.
“Mark, why did you suddenly come?” Sophia’s voice was sickeningly sweet, “Did you miss me?”
Mark’s voice carried impatience, “Where’s your sister?”
My heart suddenly sank.
What was he doing here?
The door was suddenly pushed open. Mark stood at the doorway with a gloomy face, Sophia hanging on his arm with a malicious smile.
“Sister, Mark has something to say to you.”
Mark coldly swept a glance at the child in my arms, frowning in disgust, “Olivia Sullivan, I’m warning you, don’t think you can cling to the Foster family just because you have a bastard child.”
My fingers unconsciously tightened, and my child whimpered softly in his sleep.
“I’m not…” My voice was barely audible.
“Not?” Mark sneered, “Then why did you choose this time to return to the Sullivan family? What, can’t afford to raise the child anymore? Want me to pay for the bastard’s milk powder?”
Sophia added fuel to the fire from the side, “Sister, life must have been tough for you these years? Raising a fatherless child…”
“Enough!” I suddenly looked up, “Who gave you permission to call my child a bastard?”
Mark seemed to be angered by my reaction. He strode over and grabbed my wrist, “Olivia Sullivan, stop playing the victim! If it weren’t for the relationship between our families, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you in the first place!”
His grip was shockingly strong, causing a sharp pain in my wrist.
My child was startled awake. Seeing the scene before him, he immediately burst into tears.
“Mommy! Don’t bully Mommy!” He reached out his little hands, trying to push Mark away.
Mark shoved the child away. His small body hit the wall with a dull thud.
“Little Bean!” I broke free from Mark’s grip and rushed to hug my child. A red mark had appeared on his forehead, and he was crying uncontrollably.
“Mark Foster! He’s just a child!” I shouted hoarsely, tears blurring my vision.
Sophia laughed gleefully from the side, “Oh my, Mark, this child is quite protective, just as shameless as his mother.”
Mark looked down at us coldly, his gaze icy, “Olivia Sullivan, I’ll make a public statement tomorrow to break off the engagement. If you dare to cause any trouble…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but the threat was clear.
I held my child tightly, feeling my heart shatter into pieces.
Why?
Why treat us like this?
What wrong had my child done?
He’s just an innocent child…
Mark turned to leave, Sophia shot me a triumphant look and followed, clinging to his arm.
“By the way,” Mark stopped at the door, not looking back, “Uncle asked me to tell you, stop dreaming. The Foster family will never acknowledge this bastard.”
Those words were like a knife, stabbing deep into my heart.
Ethan…
This child is his own flesh and blood.
The door slammed shut. I could no longer hold myself up, sliding to the floor with my child in my arms.
My child’s little hands frantically wiped away my tears, “Mommy, don’t cry. Little Bean will blow the pain away…”
I held him tightly in my arms, my tears soaking his collar.
The man who had promised me a home three years ago now wouldn’t even acknowledge his own child.
All those gentle whispers, those passionate promises, turned out to be nothing but a joke.
“Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy want us?” my child suddenly asked softly, his voice filled with confusion and hurt.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain almost unbearable.
How could I answer?
Outside the window, the rain grew heavier, thunder rumbling.
I hugged my child tightly. In the Sullivan house, apart from my mother who truly cared for me, it was just me and my child depending on each other.
“Little Bean, don’t be afraid,” I said softly, my voice trembling terribly, “Mommy will never leave you.”