Chapter 1057
“Go. Just go to your children,” she rasped, utter exhaustion hollowing her voice. “You’ve won. This past month, you’ve ground me down to nothing. I’m done. Meddle in your own life? I wash my hands of it. Are you satisfied?”
He had pushed her to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Cohabitation had become a daily torture chamber. Having Jonathan constantly underfoot, a brooding, resentful shadow, was its own prison sentence.
In her efforts to control him, she’d caged herself. She couldn’t endure another moment of it.
Separation was salvation. His perpetual hostility was intolerable. And witnessing his decline was its own agony. Jonathan, once vibrant, now a specter: buried in work or numbed by alcohol, a hollow shell. Her son was lost.
Irene drew a shuddering breath, utterly defeated. “I’m broken. Truly. You have my word—no more interference. Your life is yours. Live it.”
Back in Nareigh, Teresa had kept vigil at the hospital all night. As dawn painted the sky, Amy arrived with Michael. “Mommy!” Michael rushed to her, his face etched with worry. “How’s Felix?”
“He’s okay now, sweetie,” Teresa said, managing a tired smile. “The fever’s gone.”
“Yay!” Michael beamed, bouncing on his toes. “That’s awesome! And guess what? Mr. Daddy Lime is coming home super soon!”
Teresa froze for a heartbeat, confusion clouding her exhausted features. ‘What did he just say?’
“I called Mr. Daddy Lime last night,” Michael announced proudly. “I told him all about Felix being sick.”
Teresa’s eyes went wide. “He… he answered when you called?”
“Of course! He answered!” Michael confirmed, nodding vigorously. “He said he didn’t mean to miss my calls before. His phone died. And he’s been mega–busy, flying everywhere for work.” Michael chattered, his words tumbling out with remarkable speed and clarity.
“Oh,” Teresa murmured, gaze falling as thoughts whirled. ‘Could it be true? Is he really coming?’ A fragile hope flared, instantly battling ingrained doubt. ‘Or… just words? A lie to comfort Mike?’
Finally, she gathered her courage to make that call. There was no sarcasm, no hidden barbs, no childish stubbornness, just an honest conversation. For the children’s sake, she would talk to him properly this time.
The line connected. Teresa waited a beat, confirming the voice on the other end was unmistakably Jonathan’s. “Mike told me he spoke with you last night,” she began, keeping her tone level.
Jonathan didn’t deny it. “How is Felix?”
“He’s much better,” Teresa said, relief softening her voice slightly. “The fever broke. I’m still here with him.”
Before Jonathan could say anything, she pressed on. “I was drunk last time, on New Year’s Day when I called you. I got a little emotional, but I meant every word I said.”
“Felix’s still too young to travel,” Teresa continued, the words thick in her throat. “But Mike, he misses you so much. He talks about you constantly.
“I can handle Felix here. But Mike… if it’s possible, if you’d have him, I thought maybe he could fly to you? Stay for a little while?” The offer felt like tearing out a piece of her heart.
She knew the risk. The terrifying possibility of losing access to her son. But she forced the words out anyway. Silent tears tracked paths down her cheeks as she spoke, the phantom pain of separation already a sharp ache in her chest.
She’d been so certain she could do it alone. That conviction had fueled the years of secrecy, hiding the child’s existence from Jonathan. She’d clung fiercely to the belief that she and her boys could be their own self- sufficient unit.
But reality had shattered that illusion. She couldn’t adequately care for two children alone. And she couldn’t keep denying them the fatherly love they craved with an ever–deepening hunger. That was true selfishness.
Tears welled up in Teresa’s eyes. “Is that okay with you? If you agree, I’ll buy Mike a plane ticket.”
“Save yourself the trouble.” Jonathan’s voice was tinged with helplessness. “I’m already at the airport.”