Chapter 8
L’wa
Warren was stunned, he couldn’t answer my question for a moment.
But as he looked at the obvious burn mark on my cheek, a hint of disgust flashed in his eyes. “You can’t compare to Marilyn in any way. You’re not attractive, and you have no abilities. You’re just constantly staring at my dad, only someone like Marilyn deserves to be my mother.”
“And you always controlled me, not letting me cat ice cream, not letting me eat fried chicken, and even made me drink medicine every day. You ugly monster, you don’t deserve to control me!”
This time it was my turn to freeze.
I thought of many reasons, I wondered if it was because Marilyn deliberately provoked him to have
grudge against me, I wondered if it was because Geovanni’s attitude made him imitate him.
But I never thought it was his own idea.
I never knew that he had so many complaints against me.
How ridiculous.
Warren was still accusing me, saying, “The thought of having your blood running through my veins makes me incredibly disgusted!”
I sneered and said, “Then just go die, so you won’t disgust me by coming out of my belly and having my blood flowing in you.”
Seeing that I no longer coddled him like before, Warren’s eyes flickered with a hint of surprise,
followed by a shocked gaze towards me. He couldn’t believe that as a mother, I would treat my own; son in such a way.
Marilyn’s voice grew louder as she angrily said to me, “Ms. Stanley, Warren is your son. How could you, as a mother, treat your own child like this? Warren is so well–behaved, how could you let him
die?”
If I had a child like Warren, I would definitely cherish him.
Upon hearing Marilyn’s words, Warren looked at her with immense gratitude, observing Marilyn’s indignant expression, and I couldn’t help but smile.
And our argument, attracting the attention of those around us, caught Marilyn’s eye. Seeing this, Marilyn raised her voice even louder, grabbing hold of Warren, with an expression on her face as if I were doing something wrong.
I saw the provocation and smugness in her eyes, she was waiting for me to desperately argue like I used to before. She knew Warren never liked me because he wanted his mother to be elegant, not
omeone who would only immerse herself in the kitchen every day studying oil, salt, sauce, and
I calmly said, “Well, congratulations on getting what you wanted. I am divorcing Geovanni, so this cheap and big child is all yours now. You must take good care of him.”
Seeing me so calm, Warren appeared somewhat flustered, but as he observed my composed demeanor, a hint of disdain flickered in his
eyes.
As a mother, how could I not understand Warren’s thoughts? He believed that I was just pretending.
to be calm.
But I didn’t bother to pay attention to his thoughts, I didn’t care anymore.
