“Mariah! When did you become this petty?”
“It’s just a little scratch. Is it really worth getting angry at a child over? Right now, you don’t look like a mother at all!”
I suddenly laughed.
“What does a mother ‘look like’?”
Is this the fucking face I make after giving birth, no milk, forced to drink that nasty-ass medicine?
Or when she stumbled learning to walk, I had to fucking kneel on the floor, teaching her step by step like some damn servant until she could walk?
The more I remembered all the shit I went through before, the colder I felt. I used to endure it all for the “love” of this damn family. Even if it was bitter, I swallowed it like it was sweet, thinking we were all on the same page.
But now, I know—the only ones on the same damn page are them, not me.
I endure, I retreat, I play nice, and this fucking family doesn’t change a bit.
They just take it all for granted!
“You’re still being stubborn!” Viggo said coldly. “Apologize to Cruella. Or I’ll take her to my parents’ place for a while.”
Once upon a time, that sentence used to terrify me the most.
Fear of shit from my mother-in-law, fear of being shot down by my father-in-law, fear that Viggo’s family would hate me.
But now? Not a damn bit of fear left.
I spoke softly.
“Cruella, if you don’t want to learn, then you won’t. I’ll cancel the tutoring classes.”
“If private school doesn’t suit you, I’ll transfer you to public school.”
“From now on, I won’t interfere in your life anymore.”
Viggo froze.
Before he could say anything, Cruella cheered.
“That’s what a good mom is like!”
I didn’t respond. I just turned around and went back to the bedroom to bandage my wound.
Soon, the door opened.
Viggo walked in, his tone gentler.
“Honey, did something happen to you today?”
He reached out, trying to help me apply some ointment.
“Why did you suddenly cut off Cruella’s classes?”
I raised my hand and pushed him away, my voice flat and cold.
“Isn’t this what you and Cruella wanted? I’m just letting her grow up happy.”
Mariah’s POV
My words caught Viggo off guard.
He clearly hadn’t expected that response. His expression froze for a couple of seconds before his brows knit together again, his tone slipping back into that familiar “I’m doing this for your own good” voice.
“You can’t put it that way,” he said.