Chapter 7 A Bastard Son

The next day, Albert was inconsolable, so Joyce reluctantly asked Henrik to join them at the M Amusement Park.

A good-looking couple with a cute boy was always attention-grabbing. As they walked to the meeting spot of the kindergarten, everyone's eyes were on them.

When they arrived, a group of children circled them. Albert rushed over to his friends excitedly and puffed up his chest. He proudly introduced Joyce and Henrik to his friends. "My parents came with me today."

Children also tended to gravitate towards good-looking people. "Wow, Albert, your mother is so beautiful."

"Your father is so handsome, too!"

"You were right! Your parents are really good-looking!"

Albert nodded. "Of course I was right, I never lied to you! I have told you before that my parents are the most beautiful parents in the world. Just look!"

Seeing her son beaming at his friends proudly, Joyce didn't want to rain on his parade. She decided not to explain her relationship with Henrik to these children, not wanting to risk them misunderstanding Albert.

Joyce and Henrik exchanged amused glances and smiled. They really did look like a happy family.

Joyce bent down to greet the children, but before she could utter a single word, a sarcastic voice came from not far away.

"Well, well, well-it seems you are as bitchy as you were seven years ago. Yesterday, you told me that you wanted to marry me, yet today you are here with your bastard son."

The voice sounded quite familiar.

The smile on Joyce's face froze. Slowly, she raised her head and saw that the voice indeed belonged to Braydon.

He was standing a couple of feet away, holding a girl who was wearing way too many layers of clothing for the summer. He sneered at the kneeling woman, his dark eyes full of disgust.

She felt a sharp pain in her palm. Apparently, she had been digging her manicured nails into it. As if waking up from a dream, Joyce quickly pulled Albert into her arms and covered his little face which looked like a miniature version of Braydon's.

The man looked down at her icily. "You protect that bastard so well, huh? Why'd you bother to give birth to him if you refused to let others see him?"

'Bastard?

How dare he call her Albert a bastard!

How could he speak so harshly of a child?'

Gritting her teeth, Joyce said in a low voice, "Braydon, you can call me names all you want, but don't you dare insult my son."

"Insult?" Braydon echoed sarcastically. He looked at the pair as though he was looking at a pile of garbage. "Joyce, don't think too highly of yourself. Who do you think you are? Do you think I have the time to insult a bitch and a bastard child?"

Joyce was speechless. She had always thought she owed Braydon for what she had done, which was why she bore his insults time and time again.

It was okay for him to call her a bitch. After all, she deserved it; she admitted that much.

But how could she sit by and watch him insult her Albert?

She had been in love with him for seven years. She had gone through immeasurable suffering. She even came close to death as she bore his child. Yet now, he called that boy a bastard.

This time, Joyce really knew what heartbrokenness felt like.