The Falling Petal’s Wish

When the protagonist appears, I am already pregnant with Kobby's child.

Unable to fight against fate, he once defied everything and broke off his engagement with the protagonist for me, but he also hated me to the core because of her, annoyed by even a glance at me.

Finally, I grew tired, letting go of the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child.

Until a twilight six years later.

A tender-faced child knocked on my door.

He said with a serious, grown-up expression:

"My dad doesn't want me anymore, can I stay with you?"

I froze for a moment, saying nothing.

The child, Jessica, pursed his lips in displeasure, tilting his beautiful little face up and stating, very earnestly:

"My teacher said that parents have the responsibility and obligation to raise their children..."

The half-open door cut off his unfinished sentence.

I stepped aside slightly, calmly saying:

"Come in."

The dim yellow light within the room illuminated his slightly widened eyes.

His eyes flickered inexplicably, and he huffed, chin raised, then obediently entered.

I closed the door and turned to see Jessica curiously glancing around.

Noticing me watching him, he immediately pulled his gaze back, nervously clutching his backpack straps, his small face taut as he said:

"My name is Jessica."

It sounded like an introduction, and also like a reminder to me that he was the child Kobby and I had.

I knew.

From the first moment I saw him, I confirmed his identity.

Because his appearance was almost an exact replica of Kobbys.

Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away, looking unhappy, no longer at me.

I placed his small, yellow backpack by the entrance, then led him to wash his hands.

"Let's eat first."

Jessica obediently hummed in agreement. When I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto a chair by himself.

I asked him why he suddenly came to find me.

Jessica buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl, his lowered head round and dark, his voice muffled:

"I argued with him. He threw things and told me to get out, said never to come back."

So, he had run away from home in a fit of pique.

Kobby would probably come to pick him up soon.

That made sense.

After all, six years ago, the Wilson family had a very ugly fight with me over Jessicas custody.

It was even less likely they wouldn't want him now.

My chopsticks paused, and I couldn't quite say what I felt in my heart at that moment.

I didn't know Jessica was coming tonight, so I only had a simple two dishes and a soup.

He was very picky, didn't eat spring onions or carrots, and ended up with no vegetables to eat.

Jessica stared at the mashed vegetable leaves with a look of deep resentment, then secretly glanced at me, swallowing guiltily.

When we first met, he had a hint of childish arrogance and spoiledness, but now, he was picky and disliked vegetables, which suggested he was always indulged and pampered at the Wilson family home.

He must not have been wronged.

I felt a little relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Kobby to send someone to pick him up.

I waited until half past nine.

Six-year-old children get sleepy very early. He pulled pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted, saying:

"There's only one room."

"Am I sharing a bed with you tonight?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering why the Wilson family still hadn't sent anyone.

I had no choice but to compromise.

"Yes, you'll sleep with me tonight."

I expected Jessica to throw a tantrum.

After all, a simple one-bedroom apartment would naturally not be as comfortable as the Wilson family's mansion.

But Jessica merely pursed his lips, his gaze flickering.

After washing his face, he huffed and puffed into his pajamas, then climbed onto the bed, kicking his legs.

It was just like dinner when he appeared disgusted but still quietly ate the vegetables I put on his plate.

He burrowed and burrowed under the covers, making a little mound, then pulled out a fairy tale book from somewhere, secretly peeking at me with his eyes, and couldn't help but urge:

"Aren't you going to read me a bedtime story?"

He looked quite happy.

After reading Jessica to sleep, I pulled out Kobby's number.

I hesitated for a long time, but still didn't dial.

Kobby and I had been apart for six years.

At first, we both thought we could defy fate.

Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Wilson family called off the engagement, secretly arranging an engagement between Kobby and Elara without his knowledge.

For my sake, he recklessly broke off his engagement with Elara.

He even gave up his heir status, enduring a family punishment from old Mr. Wilson and unable to get out of bed for half a month.

Seeing my tears, he still endured the pain, softly comforting me with a lazy smile.

I thought things would get better.

The bankruptcy would get better, Kobby would get better, the future would get better.

But it didn't.

Kobby and I got married in secret.

Perhaps because of Kobby's unwavering devotion to me, even after I got pregnant, I never thought of not having the child.

Until the eve of childbirth.

I called him repeatedly, enduring the pain, but Kobby never answered.

A neighbor took me to the hospital, and when I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Kobby.

I don't know why a person could change so drastically overnight.

So much so that his gaze towards me was filled with unfamiliar disdain.

Elara visited me once.

From her, I learned the truth about this world.

Due to a system error in timing, when the late protagonist appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else.

As a consequence of the correction, the male lead's misplaced affection began to invert.

The more he loved me before, the more he hated me now.

Elara looked at me with a pitiful and sympathetic gaze. Before she left, she whispered, "Have you ever thought about what will happen to your child in the future?"

I was suddenly stunned, a little lost.

I didn't know who to hate anymore.

Should I hate Kobby? But he himself couldn't sort out his feelings.

Should I hate fate? But what good would hating do? I couldn't change anything.

At that time, my parents were in a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They were unconscious and might be in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives.

I was on the verge of a breakdown, Elara's words replaying in my mind. I just felt that this damned world was so, so exhausting.

I pushed open the window, and as I looked down, the child by the hospital bed suddenly began to wail loudly.

Dazed, I wondered, if I died, what would become of him?

Would this world tolerate his existence?

Would Elara abuse him?

Or would he, like me, be rejected by Kobby, then silently endure many grieWilsons, and finally die unnoticed, fulfilling everyone's expectations?

I started to tremble all over, returned to the bedside, my hands shaking as I reached for his neck.

I wanted to take him with me.

But then he stopped crying, his red, tear-filled eyes fixed on me, as if he wanted to stay with his mother no matter where she went.

Until the nurse and bodyguard, sensing something was wrong, rushed in and roughly pushed me away.

I looked down at my trembling hands, then suddenly realized what absurd thing I had almost done under Elara's influence.

News quickly reached the Wilson family. Old Mr. Wilson demanded to see me and began to fight for the child's custody.

I asked for nothing, left the Kobby who despised me, relinquished custody, and straightforwardly signed the divorce papers.

I only asked for two million.

Young and carefree,

the former Miss Sterling, who once carelessly spent millions, now finds herself at a dead end for a few thousand dollars in hospital bills.

Kobby never appeared from beginning to end.

He loathed me so much that he didn't even want to look at me.

So, I accepted my fate.

I abandoned the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child.

I let him go, and I let myself go.

It wasn't until a soft little bundle burrowed into my arms that I snapped back to reality.

Jessica whimpered in his sleep, curling up softly in my embrace, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly.

He clutched my clothes tightly, anxiously, as if afraid that I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes.

I gazed at that innocent, tender face, and couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.

If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him at birth, would he still come looking for me?

He would probably run from me faster than he could hide.

By morning, Kobby still hadn't appeared.

I didn't know what he was trying to do.

The Wilson family had fought so bitterly for custody, yet now they seemed to just abandon him.

I woke Jessica up early and hailed a taxi to take him to school.

His kindergarten was in a different city than mine, but luckily it was only an hour's drive away.

Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, and he clung to me, whining, refusing to let go.

Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten gate.

His eyes lit up, and he urgently pulled me out of the car. As we approached, he deliberately slowed his steps, casually blocking the chubby boy who had just gotten out of the car.

As if deliberately showing off, Jessica swung my hand, which he was holding, in front of the boy.

Then, very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me:

"Mommy, you'll pick me up after school, right?"

This was the first time Jessica had called me "Mommy."

Perhaps because I had been absent for six whole years, even when he knocked on my door, he had never called me "Mommy" on his own.

The chubby boy stared at me intently, saying with disbelief:

"If you have a mommy, why didn't she ever take you to school before?"

Jessica snorted, his gaze full of disdain:

"My mommy is busy with work. She took special leave today just to take me to school."

The word "special" was emphasized heavily.

He held my hand and walked to the kindergarten gate in front of everyone, as if showing off, wanting everyone to see.

Before we parted, he awkwardly asked again:

"...You'll come pick me up, won't you?"

Seeing my silence, he glared at me, then said, panicked and very softly:

"You promised me in the car! Adults can't lie!"

I helplessly crouched down, smoothed out his turned-up collar, and ruffled his hair.

His hair was dark and soft, and felt lovely to the touch.

"Okay, I'll come pick you up."

He couldn't help but turn up the corners of his lips, then desperately straightened them, feigning maturity and raising his chin proudly, saying:

"Hmm, I'll remember to wait for you."

Only when his figure completely disappeared from my sight did I retract my gaze.

I found his teacher and asked about Jessica's situation in kindergarten.

The teacher stammered, then finally sighed, frowning as she complained:

"I know the Wilson family is powerful, and what I say might not be useful."

"But, Jessica's mom, no matter how busy you are, you can't neglect your child, can you?"

"Since he enrolled, no one has ever come for a parent-teacher conference!"

"Now all the children in the kindergarten are spreading rumors that he doesn't have a mom. This isn't good for the child's psychological development at all."

No one had ever come for a parent-teacher conference?

Even if Kobby was busy and disliked this child, was he even too lazy to send an assistant to handle it?

I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision.

...Perhaps I shouldn't have given up custody back then.

But at that time, I was penniless, my parents were in a coma in the hospital, and I couldn't even support myself.

How could I talk about raising a vulnerable child?

I pulled out Kobby's number, hesitated for a moment, then dialed.

I decided to have a serious talk with him.

If Kobby really didn't want to raise him anymore, I would take him in.

Although I couldn't provide him with the same good conditions as the Wilson family, I had enough to raise a child.

The phone had just been dialed when the ringing sounded behind me.

As if realizing something, my fingertips trembled, and I turned around.

Only to see Kobby stepping out of a black Bentley.

Six years had passed; he seemed to have changed, and yet not changed at all.

His eyelids were half-lowered, gazing at the illuminated screen, his wrist bones clearly defined, his stern face hidden in shadow.

He calmly raised an eyebrow, then suddenly looked up.

"You've been hiding from me for so many years."

"Talk?"

Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Kobby remained composed and steady.

His eyes were as they always were, looking at me with an inexplicably deep gaze.

Even the light and shadow cast by the tree branches at this moment favored him.

I heard he had taken over the entire Wilson family business from old Mr. Wilson. I heard the brand he founded was popular worldwide. I heard he had been secretly married years ago, always keeping a low profile.

The memories of countless years, which I had deliberately ignored, surged back with devastating force, a subtle pain aching in my chest.

Only when I saw him at that moment did I truly realize.

I thought I had moved on.

Apparently not.

When he was young, he used to weave grass rings for me, and once kicked the person who bullied me into the pool.

No one could have imagined that we would reach such an embarrassing point today.

He hadn't changed, actually; he just no longer loved me, that was all.

It's truly been a long, long time, Kobby.

In silence, we found a coffee shop nearby.

Before the coffee arrived, I asked bluntly, as if to hide something:

"Do you still want the child?"

For the past six years, I had tormented myself fantasizing about a reunion with Kobby.

So much so that I could now pretend to be calm.

Kobby glanced up at me, without hesitation:

"Of course I do."

I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, then quietly hummed and stood up.

"Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don't have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can notify me. I won't disturb you and--"

Still couldn't bring myself to say Elara's name.

I couldn't help but pinch my palm, the sharp pain making me clear-headed, forcing myself to say:

"...won't disturb your lives."

I glanced at the time, ready to leave.

As I brushed past him, I heard Kobby ask unexpectedly:

"So, you only want to talk about Jessica with me now?"

I paused, not quite understanding.

Our business had been settled six years ago; he had found new love, I took two million and left cleanly, it was that simple.

Besides Jessica, what else was there for us to discuss?

Kobby sighed softly, his dark eyes fixed on me, then spoke again:

"Alright then, I don't want Jessica."

He said it so righteously, as if he wasn't the one who had changed his mind on the spot.

I frowned, and couldn't help but ask him:

"What do you mean?"

Kobby tilted his chin slightly, pointing to the opposite seat, motioning for me to sit back down.

"Literally."

"You want to raise the child? Fine. He's yours."

"Considering the child's well-being, every Friday evening I will come to your current residence for necessary shared time with Jessica, and drive back to the company on Monday morning."

Watching him stubbornly argue with a straight face, I found it absurd.

I couldn't help but remind him:

"We're already divorced."

"Are we?"

Kobby scoffed, his meaning unclear.

"I didn't sign."

It dawned on me belatedly what those words meant.

When old Mr. Wilson made me sign the divorce papers, I only thought Kobby detested me so much that he didn't even want to see me one last time, which was why he never appeared from beginning to end.

He said he hadn't signed.

But then why did he only come looking for me six years later?

I wouldn't be so conceited as to think he still had any feelings for me.

Perhaps the original agreement was lost, or there was some flaw in it that required a supplementary agreement to be signedanything was possible.

I pursed my lips, cooperating, and said:

"Then let's sign a new one."

Kobby didn't even lift his eyes. "No."

I spoke to him gently:

"Wouldn't it be better if we settled everything after signing?"

"No."

"Do you have any concerns? I don't want any shares or money. Consider me leaving with nothing."

"No."

The three "nos" made me angry and dazed. Perhaps Kobby himself didn't remember that he was like this in his youth.

That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, looking at me provocatively and saying inappropriate things.

Kobby kicked the person into the swimming pool.

The commotion was huge. All the prominent figures in the capital were there, and the faces of several elders looked quite displeased.

When asked for the reason, Kobby never offered an explanation.

To avoid gossip and protect my reputation, Kobby didn't even mention me from start to finish.

He refused to admit fault and endured a beating from old Mr. Wilson.

Perhaps no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this now prominent figure in the business world was spent in solitary confinement.

The door was completely locked, even medicine couldn't be brought in.

I curled up outside the door, whispering softly, full of guilt:

"I'm sorry."

Through the door, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds.

He seemed to have sat down by the door too.

His voice was a bit muffled; he softly hummed, then said:

"Don't listen."

I buried my forehead in my knees, murmuring, "Actually, you didn't have to kick him. It would have been fine if you just let him finish talking. He wouldn't dare do anything to me."

"No waiting."

I didnt speak again. Perhaps he misunderstood something because my voice was too muffled. After a moment, he spoke again:

"Don't cry."

He tapped on the door, then tutted softly:

"I did it voluntarily, it has nothing to do with you. Don't cry."

I snapped back to reality, desperately hiding the bitterness in my eyes, yet it felt as if I heard his "Don't cry" from many years ago again.

Kobby sat in the light, smiling calmly, tiny dust motes dancing in the fragmented rays. His old contours had subtly sharpened with time.

He looked up, raising an eyebrow at me.

As if answering what I had said earlier.

"Sophia, we can't settle this."