Chapter 1099: A Mother and Son

Hannah saw Salem approaching and quickly crouched, wanting to embrace him. But Salem stopped a step away, not rushing into her arms as she expected. Hannah felt surprised and disappointed. Was he angry? She hadn't had much time with him today, hadn't spent any quality time at all. She'd even abandoned him briefly when getting into the wedding car, assuming it was Oscar's wish, and hadn't looked back.

Salem was still a child; he couldn't understand everything. Was he mad at her for leaving?

"Miss Besse," he called respectfully, deliberately keeping his distance, appearing restrained.

Hannah felt a pang seeing his distance. Suppressing her discomfort, she said, "Salem, I am your mother."

Salem looked incredulous. Susan had told him that since his mother had started a new life, she couldn't be disturbed, and he shouldn't call Hannah "Mom." He'd called her "Miss Besse" all day, assuming it was what she wanted.

He'd prepared himself for her never returning, but as long as there was hope of a mother figure, it was enough. He knew he wasn't born of rocks; everything was already better. He didn't need her to care for him; as long as she was happy, that was all that mattered.

Tears welled in Salem's eyes, flowing uncontrollably despite his efforts. He dared not call her "Mom," yet hearing it from Hannah made him so happy, yet also caused him to cry.

Seeing him cry, Hannah also wept. No matter their hardships with Oscar, she regretted abandoning Salem. Everything she'd done was unfair, including giving up her life for Una. Because of her, Salem lacked a mother. There were unfinished things preventing immediate reunion, forcing her to leave him repeatedly, causing him immense pain.

In this life, she felt indebted only to Salem. She wiped his tears, apologizing with a choked voice, "I'm sorry, Sal, it's all my fault. Mom feels sorry."

Salem shook his head, using his small hands to clumsily wipe her tears. Summoning courage, he said, in a tender, choked voice, "Mom." Hannah's heart ached.

"Don't cry, Mom," he cried, wiping her tears. "When you cry, I feel really sad."

"Okay," Hannah replied gently, trying to hold back her tears. "I won't cry anymore, and neither should you."

Salem nodded, wiping his eyes. They looked at each other until Salem burst into laughter, revealing a sweet smile that made Hannah laugh too.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked.

Salem blushed, still feeling unfamiliar, then replied shyly, "I just think children who have moms are so lucky."

He laughed again, warming Hannah's heart. She asked, "Don't you hate me? After all, I left you."

"Nope!" he exclaimed. "I know there must have been a reason. I'm sure you still love me! My dad said Mom had no choice because of him; we shouldn't blame you."

Hannah listened, speechless.

"Mom, don't you love Dad anymore?"

"Would it make you sad if I said yes?"

"No," Salem reassured. "Although I wish my parents were together, I know love can't be forced. If being with Dad doesn't make you happy, they shouldn't stay together. As long as Mom doesn't ignore me, I will support whatever decision you make."

Hannah pulled him into an embrace filled with gratitude and affection. The more careful he was, the more afraid he was of her leaving, and the more guilty she felt. She never meant to inflict her pain with Oscar on a child; it was cruel. Salem had endured it all. She hugged him tightly, saying, "Salem, Mom will always be your mom. Mom will never leave Salem again."

"Um," Salem heard his mother crying and couldn't help but cry again.

They hugged tightly. Their reunion made it hard to let go.

Later, a sound in the hallway—a painful cry—reminded them of Susan, still in labor. She'd been silent until now. Hannah quickly released Salem, leading him towards the delivery room. Intermittent cries of pain from Susan were heard. Salem, scared, asked, "Mom, is Auntie Susan in pain?"

"Hmm," Hannah nodded. "But having the baby is all that matters."

"Did you also suffer so much pain when you gave birth to me?" Salem asked sympathetically.

Hannah touched his head. She'd almost had a miscarriage. Salem was premature and had life-threatening illnesses; for a long time, his health wasn't good. She owed him so much.

She said, "No, there is no pain at all when Mom thinks about meeting you. Besides, Mom had a caesarean section, and there's no pain with a caesarean section."

"That's good," Salem said. "I don't want you to feel any pain."

Hannah tightened her grip on his hand. They waited in the hallway all night. Susan's labor was unexpectedly long. Susan was nearly exhausted; Manuel was running out of patience.

He said to the doctor, "C-section!"