Chapter 73
Yvan finally called back the same doctor who had attended to Logan before to treat his wounds. After the application of the ointment, Logan spoke his first words, “Mommy, it hurts…”
Matilda’s tears fell in an instant, holding her child with a heart full of pain. “It’s all Mommy’s fault; I wasn’t strong enough…”
Logan cried, too, his eyes reddened, “It’s not my fault. That lady wanted to give me a cup of hot cocoa. I didn’t even touch her, and the cup just spilled…”
“Mommy knows, our Logan is not that kind of boy.” Matilda let him go, wiping away his tears, “Mommy won’t let you stay with the Boyd family any longer; it’s too dangerous.”
Logan nodded. “I’ll wait for you to take me home. Mommy, can you stay with me at the Boyd family for a few days?”
The boy had been scalded in a set–up, and deep down, he still carried a shadow, suddenly lacking a sense of security. And Yvan was not the one to provide that comfort.
Matilda thought hard and finally nodded firmly, “Okay, Mommy will talk to Yvan about it.”
After saying this, Matilda stood up and walked out the door, only to see Yvan standing at the doorstep, his face a picture of deep, silent contemplation.
Matilda smiled coldly, “Heard everything, did you?”
Even though her voice was calm, her body trembled.
Yvan remained silent.
Matilda said, “You wronged him, but you never admit when you’re wrong.” This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
It was the same five years ago, and it’s the same now.
It was then that Yvan finally spoke, “Why didn’t he explain to me?”
“Explain?”
Matilda laughed bitterly, her eyes tinged with red as she looked at Yvan. “Yvan, would you listen to his explanation? You don’t trust him, calling him a Judas goat. What do you expect him to explain? You’re his father, yet you say such things in front of your own child!”
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Yvan paled, his pupils shrinking.
“I really want to take Logan home. He can’t live like this in your house. I can’t accept it. Yvan, can you let go?”
Matilda steadied herself; for her son’s sake, she had to confront Yvan, no backing
down.
Yvan clenched his teeth. “Not a chance! My son will not be taken away!”
“But you let him live like this; doesn’t your conscience hurt?” Matilda stepped forward, summoning strength from somewhere to seize Yvan’s shirtfront. “Yvan, ask yourself, where did I ever wrong you?
Even my son is framed by your mistress! Five years in prison wasn’t enough to quench your hate; what about now? Do what you want with me! How can you harm your own flesh and blood?”
Yvan was left speechless by Matilda’s piercing words. He grabbed Matilda’s wrist to pull her hand off his shirt, and after a long while, he spoke in a dangerous tone, “Come at you? Matilda, if I wanted you dead, it’d be as simple as squashing an ant.”
“Then let me die!” Matilda laughed absurdly, staring intently at Yvan. The hatred in her eyes was startlingly bright. As time passed, her hatred had reached a dead end. “Yvan, I ask you, if I were to die, would you let my son be?”
How dare she take death so lightly?
In that instant, Yvan felt as if his heart was being squeezed tightly, wrenched with severe pain.