Broken Family Ties
Chapter 1
My husband cheated, and we got divorced.
As a stay–at–home mom, I walked away with
nothing but fought for custody of my son,
Jason.
I poured my heart and soul into getting him
into college, only for him to run back to his
dad and brag about it.
He never looked back, even as I lay dying.
Then, I woke up back on the day we divorced.
Jason slammed a bowl on the floor, yelling,
“Get a divorce, but don’t drag me into your
poverty!”
I studied his face for a long time, then smiled
faintly.
1
“Okay, I won’t.”
After high school graduation, Jason got
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accepted into a top university.
He immediately ran to his father’s house to
celebrate.
Meanwhile, I was bedridden and alone.
Before I died, I called him to tell him I was
dying.
“Good riddance! You made me suffer for
three years. You deserve it!”
The community association only contacted
Jason the day of my funeral.
“Jason! Do you still want to go to college? If
you don’t show up, I’ll report you to your
school!”
Reluctantly, Jason came to collect my ashes.
An angry neighbor lady scolded him.
“Your mother worked day and night to
support you through high school, you
ungrateful brat!”
Jason argued back, defiant.
“My dad is a successful businessman, my
stepmother is a high–level executive, and my
grandma adores me. Why would I need her?
She killed herself working!”
My spirit twisted in rage, screaming at him.
“You blind fool! If they truly loved you, they
wouldn’t have schemed to take away your
custody!”
Jason ignored me, impatiently walked away
with my ashes.
Even when I was alive, he never took my
words seriously.
I watched him leave the apartment complex,
look around, and toss the urn into a trash
can.
He clapped his hands, like he’d gotten rid of
something dirty and unlucky.
“Ha! Now I’m free! Guys, let’s game!”
He excitedly pulled out his phone and opened
his game.
In that moment, my heart broke. I couldn’t
even cry.
I didn’t know what I was still hoping for.
I watched him play game after game until
dark.
Until he frowned, his face pale.
I thought he’d finally realized he had no
mother.
But he patted his stomach, grumbling, “Why
isn’t Grandma calling me? I’m starving.”
My hope died.
My maternal love faded, and I slowly calmed
down.
I’d known for a long time that my son
resented me.
