“Mother, why are you always home? Don’t you
く
have any hobbies? My friends‘ mothers all have hobbies.” “Mother, you’re so serious. Not like
Aunt Vivian. She always has fun, new ideas.”
After I told security not to let them in, Holden
changed tactics. He’d wait for me outside the
building in his Mercedes, looking exhausted,
offering me a warm breakfast. “You skip
breakfast too often. It’s not good for you.”
Sometimes, he and Henry would trail behind me
and Annie on our walks. I ignored them. My
neighbors, intrigued by the handsome father
and son, would ask about our relationship. “My
ex–husband, who’s still in love with someone
else, and his son, who prefers that other
woman,” I’d say bluntly. They’d recoil, instantly
sympathetic, warning me when they saw Holden
and Henry, telling me to stay inside. I’d smile
and tell them it was fine. I didn’t care anymore.
Holden was a busy man. He couldn’t keep this
up forever. I’d often see him in his car, fatigue
etched on his face, taking call after call.
<
Business. Family. He was spending too much
time away from work, taking Henry with him.
Sometimes, Henry would sneak away, have the
driver bring him to me. He’d follow me silently
as I walked Annie, giving her water, treats.
Annie would wag her tail and bark happily.
Henry would just watch, his face a mask of
resentment. Children aren’t good at hiding their
emotions. One day, Annie darted ahead, and
Henry tripped, falling hard on the sidewalk. He
burst into tears, his face red and blotchy.
“Mommy, it hurts!” He rarely cried anymore. He
was heartbroken, utterly miserable. I watched
him, frozen. His bodyguards rushed over and
picked him up. Henry used to get sick often.
Every sniffle, every cough would send me into a
panic. Now, I felt nothing.
The Hudsons no longer disrupted my life. I’d
joined a racing club, rediscovering my love for
speed. The thrill of the track, the adrenaline
rush… it was intoxicating. I qualified for a
regional competition. A long shot, but I poured
<
my heart into preparing. The race was a week
away. I booked a red–eye flight, a mix of nerves
and excitement buzzing inside me. The wind
whipped past as I raced, time blurring with the
screech of tires. I crossed the finish line, heart
pounding, sweat dripping beneath my helmet.
Second place. I hadn’t expected to place at all.
As I walked through the crowd, I saw Holden
and Henry standing near the exit. Henry
clutched a bouquet of flowers, protectively
shielding them from the jostling crowd. Holden
nodded at me, a flicker of a smile in his eyes.
He mouthed the word, “Congratulations.”
Henry’s face lit up. “Mom, you were amazing!”
The people around us smiled at this
heartwarming scene. I felt nothing but
annoyance. I kept walking. Holden and Henry
intercepted me. “Amelia,” he said, “I didn’t know
you raced. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” “Mom,
you were so cool! I was so nervous when you
passed that other car!” I ignored them. Holden
grabbed my arm. “Amelia, let’s celebrate.
Dinner? Henry…he misses you.” Henry looked
<
Dinner? Henry…he misses you.” Henry looked
at me, his eyes hopeful, trying to hand me the
flowers. I pulled away. “I’m busy. Enjoy your
dinner.”
