In the middle of the night, the hospital called to tell me my mother was in critical condition.
It was pouring rain, and I waited ages for a taxi.
By the time I reached the hospital, my mother was already covered with a white sheet.
I knelt by her bed and cried until I passed out.
When I woke up, I knew it was time to let go of this marriage.
Xavier's knuckles turned white as he gripped the crumpled paper.
He didn't ask why I hadn’t told him.
He knew. I had made dozens of calls that night, and he had heartlessly ignored them all.
After a long silence, he finally spoke again.
"It's better that she's gone. If she knew you were acting like this, she'd have pissed off to death."
His cold words hit me right where it hurt.
I couldn't hold back any longer and slapped him across the face.
We had been in love for ten years, through countless arguments, but I was always the one who gave in.
Xavier's expression turned icy. He grabbed his coat from the hanger and walked out without a word.
He expected me to apologize and beg him to stay, like I always did before.
But this time, I stayed silent and let him leave.
Everyone saw our relationship as a fairy tale.
No one could believe that the top student in school, the model student loved by teachers, would end up with a troubled teenager who was always at the bottom of the class, smoking and fighting.
Xavier was an illegitimate child, lacking any real discipline, and was notorious for dragging down the class average.
Frustrated, our teacher, during a routine seat change, paired me with him in a so-called one-to-one assistance program.
With a sincere intention to help, I began tutoring him, explaining each problem patiently.
Every time, he would raise his fist, threatening to beat me if I annoyed him.
But even with tears in my eyes, I didn't give up and kept trying to help him.
Maybe my persistence got through to him. Eventually, he gave up resisting and reluctantly laid his head on the desk, listening as I explained over and over.
A month later, in the exams, his scores shot up, and he moved up to third from the bottom.
Excited, I packed a bag full of snacks and went to his house to encourage him.
But when I arrived, I found his mother beating him with a belt, screaming and berating him.
"You useless thing! I should have drowned you in the toilet!