Chapter 4 Throw a Fit

Usually, I was the first parent here, but today I was the last one. Jesse was aggrieved. When he saw me, he threw himself into my arms and cried. I wiped his tears, took his hand, and walk out.

Ivan was waiting by the car at the entrance of the kindergarten. When he saw Jesse's red eyes, his face darkened again. He said, "You're a boy. You can't cry just like a girl every day. Show some courage, okay?"

Jesse immediately stopped and held my sleeve tightly.

"Don't try to scold him for no reason. How can you be angry at him?" I pretended to be calm and said to Ivan. Then I picked up Jesse, wanting to comfort him.

"Are you a baby? You still need a hug?" Ivan added.

His expression and tone were filled with impatience.

I knew that he had vented his dissatisfaction towards me on Jesse. I wanted to quarrel with him, but I couldn't do it in front of Jesse. I didn't want to impact Jesse, so I had to endure it.

With that, he looked at me and said, "I really don't know how you became a mother. Now he doesn't look like a boy at all. You've spoiled him too much."

Usually, I didn't care about it when Ivan said such things. I thought that these were just his unintentional little complaints. But after the talk with Morley, I suddenly realized that perhaps I had bored him for a long time. My heart ached, and anger emerged for no reason, so strongly that I couldn't suppress it.

"Boys look manly only when their fathers spend enough time with them. You work overtime every day and go on business trips every week. The time you spend with him is less than two hours a month. How dare you be picky about him?" I stopped, held Jesse with one hand, and snatched the car key from his hand, saying, "If you don't want to go back at night, you don't have to."

With that, I carried Jesse directly into the car and started it. Before I stepped on the accelerator, I glanced at the rearview mirror. Ivan was still standing where he was, hesitating whether to catch up or not. I made a decision and the car drove out like an arrow.

Jesse sat beside me, and the seat belt was too long for him, hanging loosely on his body. He turned to look over his shoulder and said, "Why didn't dad go home?"

I did not answer. With tears in my eyes, I was afraid that the moment I opened my mouth, I would reveal my emotions.

He suddenly noticed something strange about me and asked carefully, "Mom, why are you crying?"

I could no longer hold back my tears when I heard his baby voice. Tears began to drip down. In order to not let him worry, I kept inhaling deeply. Then I tried to say in a calm voice, "I'm fine. Something is in my eyes just now."

Jesse was a smart boy. He immediately voiced his judgment. "No. Dad made you angry."

"It's fine. Don't get involved in the affairs of the adults," I said.

For the next forty minutes of my journey home, I did not dare to shed another tear.

When I made it home, I prepared dinner for Jesse as usual, tutoring his homework, telling stories, bathing, and then getting him to sleep.

As I looked at the sleeping boy, the grievances in my heart surged up.

I forced myself to hold back my tears until I came out of Jesse's room. Tears fell on the back of my hand. I leaned against the door of Jesse and let out a long sigh. I really didn't know why my marriage became like this. At this time, the phone in my pocket rang. I hurriedly took it out and walked to the master bedroom as I answered it.

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