But all I could see were flashes of Greyson trembling in pain during his spinal tap.
Tears welled up involuntarily, and Shawn, mistaking my sorrow for something else, softened his tone.
"Yes, I was a bit harsh that day. I just didn't expect you to curse our son to get me back.
"Today, I wanted to ask about our son's condition, but I noticed you blocked me."
"Yeah, it's all my fault," I replied blankly, turning my head away.
Jennifer started blaming herself.
"Sandra, even though you don't like me, there's no need to curse your own son.
"Forget it, Shawn. It's all my fault for making a mistake at work, which led to trouble for you. Otherwise, Sandra wouldn't have fabricated this leukemia story about Greyson," Jennifer added, her false sympathy evident.
Unable to hold back, I retorted, "It's all your fault. Why don't you just go die?"
"Sandra, are you crazy? Why are you getting angry with Jennifer?"
Shawn glared at me.
"Yeah, I'm crazy to death! Are you happy now?" I snapped back.
Jennifer urged Shawn not to be impulsive, and he huffed, sitting beside me in silence.
After a moment, he seemed to notice a change in my demeanor and attempted to ease the tension.
"Is Greyson upset? It's okay, that kid is easy to please. Just buy him a big Superman when I get back."
My heart ached at his perfunctory words. "No need."
He thought Greyson was easy to please, but in reality, my son just loved him more.
It had been six months.
Greyson slept holding his Superman toy, clutched it during his spinal tap, and even held onto it tightly in his last moments.
I could never forget the tears in his eyes when he comforted me, saying, "Mom, do you believe in light? Superman is light. As long as it's here, Dad is here too."
But that light, for both my son and me, had completely extinguished.
Before Shawn could say more, it was Jennifer's turn for her appointment, and she headed into the consultation room.
Seeing that I ignored him, Shawn sat down beside me and struck up a conversation. "Which examination room is Greyson in? Why hasn't she come out yet?"
I didn't want to talk to him at all.
The nurse called my name, asking if my hospital admission paperwork was ready.
I informed her that my mother had the documents and had gone to buy water, but she would be back soon.
Seeing me organizing the papers, the nurse entered the room first.