She Chose Her Ex Over My Dying Mother

On the day of the World Pairs Piano Competition finals, my wife Billson disappeared.

I frantically called her 33 times, only to turn around and see her standing on stage with her ex, Claude.

Because of this, I lost my eligibility to compete.

Watching the two of them take first place and stand on the winner's podium, I silently turned and left.

Just as I reached the door, Billson's call came through.

"I won first place. Don't forget to come to the celebration party."

I didn't answer. I silently hung up.

That evening, Claude posted on Ins.

In the video, Claude had his arm around Billson's shoulder as they accepted everyone's cheers.

The smiles on their faces were blindingly painful to watch.

I liked the post and commented.

[Congratulations, tonight's spotlight is all yours!]

Before long, Billson called, her voice carrying a note of apology.

"Don't be mad. I've always remembered your mom's wish. We still have next time."

I hung up directly, my hand trembling as I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket.

It was my mother's critical condition notice! There would be no next time!

I rushed to the hospital but didn't make it in time to see my mother one last time.

My mother's greatest wish had been to see Billson and me win the World Pairs Piano Competition championship.

Mother left with regret. I knelt before her, tears streaming silently down my face.

The next day, Kristian came to the hospital and helped me prepare my mother's body.

She was my mother's student, and we'd known each other since childhood.

"Where's Billson? Why didn't she come?"

I pressed my lips together tightly, not knowing what to say.

Kristian frowned. "Didn't you tell her?"

I shook my head.

I had called Billson last night.

"What is it? I'm still busy here. We'll talk when I get back."

Before I could speak, she hung up.

When I called again, her phone was already off.

Seeing my silence, Kristian grew anxious.

"What's going on? Tell me. She's your wife. How can she not come to the funeral?"

I smiled bitterly!

Last night Claude had updated his Twitter. To celebrate their victory, the two of them had already gone on a trip out of town.

"I'll call her."

I stopped Kristian as she pulled out her phone, my expression calm.

"It's fine if she doesn't come."

"How is that fine? She's the teacher's daughter-in-law!"

Kristian was quite agitated, trying to break free from my grip to make the call.

I stopped her again, my tone firm.

"It really is fine if she doesn't come."

In the week after my mother's death, Billson didn't call once.

Kristian rushed around helping me handle my mother's funeral arrangements.

From notifying friends and relatives to contacting the crematorium, to keeping vigil at night.

Kristian stayed by my side the entire time.

Claude's Twitter updated daily. He and Billson had gone to the beach.

The two of them laughed and played in the water, huddled together watching sunrises and sunsets.

I liked every single tweet.

At night, Billson would message me with explanations.

[We're just hanging out together.]

[Besides us, there are other people too.]

[Don't overthink it. Take good care of Mom at home and practice your piano. When I get back, we'll win the championship together next time.]

My replies were always simple.

[Mm!]

[Okay!]

[Got it!]

On the day of my mother's funeral, Billson called.

"I'm back. Aren't you happy? Come pick me up at the airport."

"I'm at the cemetery!"

In my heart, I hoped she would ask, would show concern.

But she just said "Oh."

"Then I'll wait for you at the airport. Don't take too long."

The call was disconnected. I laughed at myself.

Just moments ago, I had actually been hoping! What a joke!

Kristian asked me, "What's wrong?"

"Billson's back. She wants me to pick her up at the airport."

Kristian urged me, "Then go quickly. If you hurry, you might still make it back for the teacher's funeral."

I smiled and shook my head.

"No rush!"

I proceeded with my mother's funeral step by step, everything ending in an orderly fashion.

I saw off Kristian and all the friends and relatives one by one.

Billson called again, her voice tinged with impatience and complaint.

"Why aren't you here yet? How much longer are you going to make me wait?"

"Almost there!"

I drove to the airport. The whole way, Billson kept calling to rush me.

When she saw me, she pointed at me accusingly.

"I called you first thing this morning. Why did you take until now to come?"

I didn't respond. I didn't even get out of the car. My tone was flat as I asked.

"Can we go now?"

"What's the rush!"

Billson glared at me, then turned and hurried back into the airport.

Before long, she came out supporting Claude.

"The air conditioning on the plane was too cold. He gave me his clothes to wear and caught a cold himself."

Though Billson was explaining to me, her eyes never left Claude for a moment, filled with concern and heartache.

"Oh!" I replied casually.

Claude smiled at me. "Guy, thanks for the trouble!"

Before I could speak, Billson said tenderly, "Don't talk when you're sick. It's no trouble for him to drive here and pick us up."

I smiled at that.

Right. Claude got sick for her sake, while I merely drove here to pick them up. Of course I couldn't compare.

Billson helped Claude into the back seat, gently letting Claude rest his head on her shoulder.

I stared in a daze.

Once, she had said my shoulder was only for her to lean on, and her shoulder was only for me.

But now, she was letting Claude lean on her shoulder.

Seeing I hadn't moved, Billson said impatiently.

"What are you spacing out for? Drive!"

I turned my head and silently started the car.

"Drive faster. Take Claude home first. He has a cold and can't be delayed."

"Okay!" I responded.

The entire way, Billson and I didn't exchange another word.

She kept thoughtfully changing positions to let Claude rest more comfortably.

Through the rearview mirror, I saw her wanting to say something several times.

I knew what she wanted to say.

Nothing more than telling me not to mind, that Claude was sick now and needed tolerance and understanding.

Actually, she didn't need to say it. I didn't mind at all!

"Darling, my head is so dizzy. I feel terrible!"

Claude hugged Billson's waist, burying his head in her chest.

Billson glanced at me in panic, then reached out to straighten Claude up.

"You don't have a fever, do you? Let me check."

She pressed her hand to Claude's forehead and sighed in relief.

"No fever. It must be because the car's going too fast."

"Guy, slow down. Claude isn't feeling well."

I glanced at the speedometer showing barely 40 mph and laughed quietly.

"What are you laughing at? Claude is already sick, and you're gloating."

Billson glared at me disapprovingly, her perfectly made-up eyebrows raised as if I'd committed some heinous crime.

"I wouldn't say gloating. I just find it funny that a grown man with a little cold is acting like he has a terminal illness."

"You're the one with a terminal illness. If you can't speak properly, shut your mouth."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth as the car entered the residential complex where Claude lived.

Before I'd even parked properly, Billson opened the door and helped Claude out.

I followed behind them.

Billson skillfully pulled out a key from her bag. Just as she opened the door, she seemed to remember I was behind her and turned to explain.

"Because I often come here to rehearse piano pieces, Claude gave me this key for convenience."

I smiled in response. "No need to explain. I understand!"

Billson frowned at that, seeming to sense something was off about me today.

"You today..."

Before she could finish asking, Claude suddenly broke into violent coughing.

Billson immediately panicked, unable to ask me further, and quickly helped Claude inside.

"I'll get you some water!"

Billson helped Claude sit on the sofa, then rushed around getting water and fetching a towel.

"How are you feeling? Any better? What would you like to eat?"

Claude smiled weakly.

"Much better. I don't have an appetite right now. I just want some borscht."

Billson turned to look at me.

"You heard him? Go make it!"

I couldn't believe it!

"You want me to make it?"

"Obviously. There are only three of us here. I need to take care of him. If you don't make it, who will?"

My brow trembled as I struggled to suppress the collapse inside me, feeling my heart slowly shatter.

"Hurry up!" Billson urged impatiently.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my stinging eyes.

"Just order delivery."

That sentence was like poking a hornet's nest. Billson snapped.

"What do you mean? I'm asking you to make one bowl of borscht, and you're acting all wronged about it!"

"Alright, alright, don't be angry!"

Claude grabbed Billson's hand.

"Since Guy doesn't want to make it, let's not force him."

"After all, I'm nothing to him. He has no obligation to take care of me."

Billson suddenly stepped forward and forcefully pulled me into the kitchen.

"It's just one bowl of soup. How much time could it possibly take? Now, immediately, right this instant, make it."

This was like the final straw that broke the camel's back. My heart completely shattered. I couldn't help thinking of my mother. I clenched my fists.

Billson froze for a moment, then released my hand in disgust.

"Fine, fine. You can leave. I don't need you to make it anymore."

I felt waves of suffocation as I dragged my feet toward the exit.

"Guy seems a bit off. His face is completely pale."

"I'm fine. I can't let myself affect your relationship."

Billson laughed coldly. "Don't mind him. He's just faking it. I'll order you delivery."

I dragged myself into the car, as if all my strength had been drained, gasping for breath.

In that moment, I didn't want anything except to be with my mother.

I drove to the cemetery.

Kristian stood before my mother's grave. Seeing me, she rushed over to support me.

"Why do you look so terrible? Are you sick?"

I shook my head, my voice hoarse.

"Why are you here?"

"My heart wasn't at peace. I came to keep the teacher company."

I fell silent. Kristian and I stayed with my mother all afternoon.

The cemetery lights came on. Kristian said, "Let's go. Get something to eat."

"Mm!"

At the restaurant, we ran into Billson and Claude.

"Guy, you rushed off just to meet her?"

Billson's face darkened as she pointed at Kristian and questioned me.

Before I could speak, Kristian explained.

"You've misunderstood. Guy and I ran into each other at the cemetery."

Billson laughed coldly.

"Having a date at the cemeteryhow discreet. No wonder I never noticed."

"Tell me, how long have you two been sneaking around together?"

My expression turned ugly.

"Billson, what nonsense are you spouting?"

Kristian's face also darkened. "Miss Billson, please speak respectfully. I went to the cemetery to keep the teacher company."

Billson froze for a moment, then trembled with rage.

"His mom is fine in the hospital, and to cover up your affair with Guy, you're actually cursing her."

"You were the teacher's student. She practically treated you like her own daughter. Do you have any humanity left?"

"And you, Guy!"

Billson looked at me furiously.

"She's cursing your mom right here, and you're not saying a word!"

I painfully turned my head away.

Kristian said coldly, "Miss Billson, you have no right whatsoever to criticize Guy or me."

"The teacher passed away a week ago, and you never showed up once from beginning to end."

"The heartless one is you!"

Billson's face suddenly turned deathly pale.

"That's impossible!"

"Guy, tell me what she's saying isn't true."

"Billson, calm down."

Claude held Billson and turned to question me.

"Guy, something as major as your mother's deathhow could you not tell Billson?"

Billson seemed to find an excuse and immediately followed up with her own question.

"Right, why didn't you tell me?"

I answered coldly, "I wanted to tell you too, but did you give me a chance to speak?"

Kristian took my hand, offering me comfort.

"Guy, let's go! Billson, if you have any heart left, go pay respects at the teacher's grave."

"Don't you dare leave!" Billson broke away from Claude to block me.

Claude was pulled off balance, his wrist hitting the corner of the table. He cried out in pain.

But this time Billson ignored him, spreading her arms to block my path.

I sighed helplessly and said to Kristian.

"You leave first. Wait for me outside."

Kristian nodded and said to Billson in a cool voice.

"The teacher is gone. You have no standing to blame anyone."

Billson didn't respond. She just looked at me.

After Kristian left, I asked calmly, "What else do you want to say?"

Billson was very agitated.

"Why didn't you tell me? Mom passed away? What right did you have not to tell me?"

"Everyone knew except me. How do you expect people to look at me?"

So she only cared about how others saw her. I laughed at myself inwardly.

"Don't worry. I already explained for you. No one will look at you with judgmental eyes."

"From now on, you'll still be the pairs piano champion in everyone's eyes. The center of attention!"

Hearing this, Billson's body swayed, and she collapsed weakly to the floor.

"No, that's not it. That's not what I wanted."

"You should have told me. You should have told me."

She repeated it over and over, tears streaming from her eyes.

It was the first time I'd seen her so fragile.

But I felt no sympathy! Because my heart was already dead! It could no longer feel pain!

Billson looked up at me, tears ruining her makeup.

"What day did Mom pass?"

I looked at her, my eyes devoid of emotion.

"The same day you and Claude won the championship."

"Mom left with regret. You know what her wish was. We were just one step away from achieving it, but that day I called you over and over."

"What I got instead was you and Claude standing on that podium."

Billson frantically pulled out her phone, fumbling through her call history, finally seeing the dozens of missed calls from a week ago.

"After Mom passed, I called you right away, but you were only focused on celebrating your victory with Claude."

"An entire week. If you'd shown even the slightest concern for Mom, you wouldn't have ignored it completely."