Chapter 7: A Father’s Name

My back hit the wall, and I groaned in pain. Sammy must have heard it, ran out barefoot, stood in front of me, and glared at Derek, not letting him touch me.

He looked so small in his superhero pajamas, but he planted his feet like he was protecting the world. Derek looked down at him, sneered coldly, and said indifferently, "You and your mother are both annoying."

I saw Sammy’s eyes redden. That sentence must have broken his heart.

Under his pillow, he hid Derek’s photo. He always knew Derek was his father.

On those painful nights after he got sick, sleeping in my arms, he always dreamed of Dad coming home.

He said he missed Dad, just like Dad missed him, always crying secretly.

He said he wouldn’t leave anymore, and wouldn’t let Mom work so hard again.

But later, he woke from the dream, and finally met Dad.

But heard him say, "You and your mom are both annoying."

Derek only glanced at Sammy, then looked away.

He seemed a bit irritated, frowned, threw me a credit card, and said lightly, "Use it to treat your precious son—$150,000 or $1 million, spend as you like."

"Don’t go drinking with men anymore, and don’t forget to thank my fiancée."

He spoke like it meant nothing, like he could buy his way out of anything. After saying that, he hugged Lillian and left.

Sammy watched his figure fade away, and softly called, "Dad..."

The word slipped out, barely more than a breath. Then turned back, held back his tears, and said quietly to me, "Mom, Sammy doesn’t want Dad anymore."

His lips trembled, his eyes big and solemn. His expression was so serious, as if he had much to say, but suddenly started coughing, spitting out blood, staining the floor, my body, and the photo of Derek in his hand...

The sharp smell of iron filled the air. Nurses shouted, feet pounded the tile, and the world blurred around me.

I watched as he collapsed weakly in my arms, hearing him say softly, "Mom’s not dirty, Mom is very clean, it’s Sammy’s fault, he dirtied Mom’s clothes."

"Mom, throw Sammy away, don’t want Sammy anymore, don’t make yourself work so hard..."

I listened as his voice grew weaker, watched him slowly close his eyes, and screamed his name hysterically.

The walls seemed to close in. My hands shook as I clutched him, begging the universe not to take him away. I hadn’t yet told him—in this world, how could there be a mother who doesn’t want her own child?

He was the flesh and blood I carried for nine months.

The nurses around were in chaos, took him from my arms, and rushed him to emergency. I forced myself to calm down and followed.

My legs felt like lead. I stumbled down the hallway, heart racing. Looking up, I saw Derek running to the end of the corridor, tears streaming down his face, trembling as he asked me, "Did someone just call me Dad?"

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead. For the first time, I saw Derek’s mask break. All those years of anger, pride, and regret fell away, leaving him just as lost as me. And I realized—nothing would ever be the same.