The hospital staff were pissed at Tiffany.
They all stormed off to prep for surgery.
I couldn’t resist twisting the knife. I walked up
to her and said, “You better go pay the bill, or
your own flesh and blood is gonna kick the
bucket.”
Tiffany’s eyes were bloodshot, and she glared
at me with pure hatred.
“Brenda, did you know all along?”
I gave her an innocent smile. “Of course! He’s
just a bastard, the product of a cheating
scumbag and a tramp.”
“I thought you were being so mean because
you were sleeping with another woman’s
husband and felt guilty. But that’s not it is it?”
Tiffany pointed at me, screaming. “You knew I
was going to switch our kids! You knew that
brat was my kid, and you didn’t stop me! You
just watched him get beaten!”
I kept smiling. “Not my kid, why would I?”
Tiffany couldn’t take it anymore. She fainted.
Her little drama meant the surgery couldn’t
happen because she was not medically
cleared, which made it ineligible.
But the bastard lived anyway. He just lost half
his liver and his spleen, and had two broken
legs. He was basically a vegetable.
When the bastard was wheeled back into his
room, Tiffany was still out cold. I was the first
person he saw when he woke up.
He asked, “Aunt Brenda, I’m in a lot of pain.
Am I going to die?”
I shook my head gently. “Not really. But your
mom didn’t agree to a transplant, so you’re
gonna be a vegetable for the rest of your
life.”
The bastard was just a kid, but he had a
feeling. His legs were numb and his chest
was killing him, reminding him that he was in
for a rough ride.
I was leaving his room when Tiffany woke up.
Her hair was a mess, and she ran over to her
beat–up son, bawling.
<
I quietly left and told Mark the good news.
“That Tiffany is heartless, she’s abusing her
own son! She doesn’t deserve to be a mom!”
Mark had just gotten back from work. He
didn’t know what had happened, and said,
“That mutt is a terror. Tiffany is doing what
she needs to! I say she should beat some
sense into him.”
I told him, “Yeah, well, it’s her kid.”
Mark agreed, then went over to Sean and
started acting all lovey–dovey, even giving
him a foot rub like an old servant.
The difference was pretty disgusting.
If he knew that the bastard was bie kid
If he knew that the bastard was his kid, would
he still be rubbing Sean’s feet?
But Mark got a phone call and his face went
pale. He ran out the door.
I stood on the balcony and watched his car
drive toward the hospital.
I packed our bags and took Sean to my
parents‘ place. I also had the locks changed.
As soon as the sun came up, Mark was
calling me.
He didn’t realize the doors wouldn’t open, and
he needed money.
The bastard was a mess and Mark needed
the
I asked him why he needed money.
Mark hemmed and hawed, then said, “You
haven’t worked in years! I’ve been working my
butt off to support you! I had to borrow
money for your expenses, and they’re asking
for it back! Get some money from your
parents and pay them back!”
I laughed. “I spend too much money? I spend
more than Tiffany? She spends six thousand
a month on rent!”
Mark got defensive. “What’s that supposed to
mean? What Tiffany spends is none of your
business!”
“I spend my husband’s money, and she
spends my husband’s money. So yes, it’s my
business!”
<
I said coldly, “You’ve been cheating on me
with Tiffany, and you have a bastard. I have
enough evidence. I’m filing for divorce. And all the money you spent on Tiffany is marital
property. I’m suing her for all of it back!”
Mark was stunned. “You… you knew?”
“I knew a long time ago. Did you know? The
bastard that Tiffany was abusing all those
years is your son?”
I laughed. “You wanted to switch our kids,
and have me raise yours? Think again! I
switched them back as soon as they were
born!”
“You and Tiffany have been calling the other
your bastard!”
く
Mark lost it. “Brenda, you evil bitch! You
ruined my son!”
I laughed again. “Tiffany abused him. What’s
that got to do with me? My son is doing
great. I don’t care about yours!”
I hung up and hired a lawyer to file for
divorce.
