My Son Calls Another Woman Mom Chapter 09

My Son Calls Another Woman Mom Chapter 09

Claire’s POV 

The gun presses against Adrian’s forehead. 

Elijah’s voice is cold. “How long do you think you can protect her? A year? Two? Once you see what this world really is, you’ll get it. You can’t hold onto everything.” 

Adrian doesn’t back down. Blood still runs down his face, but his voice stays steady. “That was your choice. Not fate.” 

Elijah’s brow furrows. 

“When you saved her, did you think about the consequences? When those people were hunting you down, when you were hiding in that shitty house, did you think about giving up?” 

Elijah’s hand starts shaking. 

I heard the stories.” Adrian looks straight into Elijah) eyes. “You got on your knees for her in front of your family. You tore through the entire South Side for Ber. You gave up every shred of dignity you had for her. Now it’s my turn to do those things. Difference is 

I won’t give up halfway through like you did.” 

Elijah 

Elijah’s breathing gets heavy. 

He stares at Adrian like he’s looking at a ghost. He’s staring at himself from fifteen years ago. The version of himself that wasn’t afraid of anything, the one who would’ve given everything for her. 

The gun lowers slowly. 

Elijah steps back. “Take care of her.” 

He waves at his guards. “We’re leaving.” 

The guards freeze for a second, then follow him out. 

Adrian stands in the hallway, watching them disappear into the night. 

When I wake up, the sunlight hurts. 

Adrian sits in the chair by my bed, asleep with his head against the wall. 

I thought I’d wake up at the estate. I thought it was over. But I’m still here. 

Looking at his face, I don’t ask what happened last night, but whatever he did, it worked. 

he next few days pass quietly at the orphanage. Elijah doesn’t come back. Adrian says he installed a new security system at the gate, but I don’t think we need it anymore. 

He won’t be coming back. 

On the fifth day, a lawyer in a suit shows up at the orphanage. 

He hands me a document. “Mr. Sterling asked me to deliver this.” 

I open it. It’s a property transfer agreement. Elijah gave me almost everything, keeping only a small portion for Owen’s support. 

I sign it. 

After the lawyer leaves, I turn on the TV. A news anchor is mid–report. “The patriarch of the Sterling crime family has died suddenly under unclear circumstances. Police are investigating…” 

the anchor sounds neutral. But I know what it means. 

The next day, another report. “A former Sterling family member was found on the streets in a state of mental collapse. Witnesses say she kept screaming…” 

The camera flashes to Isabelle’s face, but she’s unrecognizable now. Her hair’s a mess, her eyes are hollow. 

Iturn off the TV. 

Adrian walks over, “You okay?” 

nod. “I just think it’s ironic.” 

He finally did what he should’ve done years ago. But it’s too late now. 

Three months later, a small figure starts showing up outside the orphanage gate. 

Owen stands there, watching me play with the other kids. 

I invite him in, but I treat him like any visitor. Polite, but distant. 

“Why don’t you hug me anymore?” he finally asks. 

I smile a little. “You’re too old for that now.” 

Owen watches me pick up another child. Tears run down his face. 

I don’t turn around. 

A year later, Adrian and I get married. 

The wedding’s simple, held in the orphanage courtyard. No flowers, no cake, just the kids standing in a circle, clapping and singing. 

Right then, a figure appears at the street corner. 

Elijah stands there behind the iron gate, watching the scene in the yard. He watches me smile, watches Adrian take my hand, watches the kids spin around us. 

He stands there for a long time. Doesn’t leave until the wedding ends and everyone’s gone. 

Many years pass. 

Owen grows up. Now he volunteers at the orphanage every week. He helps clean, plays with the youngerkids, helps out in the kitchen. 

I talk to him, say “thanks for your help,” tell him “see you next week” when he leaves. 

But I treat him like any other volunteer. 

One day, he finally breaks. 

“Did you forgive me?” He stands in front of me, eyes red. 

I stay quiet for a few seconds. “I forgave you a long time ago.” 

“Then why…” 

“But forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. Doesn’t mean everything goes back to how it was.” I look at the kids playing in the yard. “You’ve got your life. I’ve got hine. That’s how it should be.” 

Owen’s head drops. Doesn’t say anything else. 

More years pass. Adrian and I get old. Our hair turns completely white, but we still work at the orphanage. 

One evening, we sit on the porch. Adrian holds my hand. 

“All these years,” he says suddenly, “I never regretted it once.” 

A lean against his shoulder and smile. “Me neither.” 

THE END