My Son Died Due to My Husband

I knelt before the ruins, unconcerned with the gawking crowd around me, and broke down in tears.

Simon's body had been reduced to charred remains, unrecognizable to anyone else.

Yet, the moment I touched him, I knew it was my child.

My burning tears fell uncontrollably onto Simon.

"Simon, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I cried, holding his broken form close, just as I did on those nights when Collin Forst abandoned us.

Simon would always snuggle into my arms and ask, "Mom, am I too stupid?"

When I asked why he thought that, he would secretly wipe away his tears and mumble, "Why does my dad like Eva more than me?"

Even a child as young as Simon could see Collin's favoritism.

Eva was not the child of me and Collin and she had no blood relationship with Collin at all.

She was the child of Collin's childhood sweetheart, Luna Reid.

Collin could abandon me, but he shouldn't hurt Simon, a young child, repeatedly like this.

On Christmas, he would dress as Santa to give Eva a princess dress, forgetting his son, Simon, who sat stubbornly at the door all night with a drawing of our family, waiting for his father to come home.

Simon was so sleepy that he couldn't open his eyes but refused to leave. "Mom, will my dad be happy seeing my drawing?"

My eyes filled with tears, but I couldn't bear to give him false hope.

Sometimes, Collin would occasionally promise Simon a trip to the amusement park if he earned a gold star at kindergarten.

For this casual promise, Simon would sit up straight on his tiny chair, eagerly grabbing a broom taller than himself to clean.

Simon hated carrots, but to fulfill his promise to Collin, he pinched his nose and ate all the carrots in the bowl.

The day he came home with a report card covered in gold stars, he ran into my arms, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Mom, gold stars! Let's go to the amusement park."

I smiled and patted his head, but as I laughed, my tears soaked the paper in Simon's hands.

He hurriedly wiped my tears, crying himself, "Mom, did I make you angry? I won't go to the amusement park."

Simon didn't know that Collin hadn't been home for two weeks.

He had taken Luna and Eva to the beach.

I couldn't reach Collin and feared something had happened to him.

I was on the verge of calling the police when I saw their happy faces on Luna's social media.

Her caption pierced my heart. "What does it matter if I've lost everything? I still have you."

What about me?

It was too late for everything.

Simon was already gone.

From now on, Collin no longer existed as my lover or in any other identity related to love.

He was the enemy who killed my son.

Many families are single-parent, and as long as I gave Simon enough love, it didn't matter whether Collin loved him or not.

What was more, how could Simon, a child, understand so many things?

He only worried about me.

He knew that every night when Collin went to see Luna, I would cry all night in my room.

He knew that every time Collin favored Eva, I would argue with Collin, my eyes red with anger.

Simon thought if he could keep Collin, I would be happy.

Neither he nor I could believe that Collin would leave Simon alone in the shop.

I also didn't expect Collin to throw cigarette butts into a room full of flammable materials.

Collin caused the death of our son in this way.

Even after Simon's death, Collin never once inquired about his safety.

It was me alone who endured the tremendous grief and arranged Simon's funeral.

And there were nearly a hundred poor lives in the pet shop. I could even imagine their whimpering before they died.