Chapter 6: Breaking the Cycle, Facing the Monster

When he called me an outsider, I couldn’t hold back anymore. The anger I’d buried for years erupted. I was done being silent. With Christopher standing up for me, I let out all my anger: "Because you only care about sons, you never cared about me or Mom! You had a child with another woman, Mom had a heart attack because of you, and you never apologized. You wanted a divorce just to register your son, but shamelessly kicked Mom out with nothing! How much of your gambling debt did she pay? Do you remember? Are you even a man? When I had a high fever as a child, Mom, despite being sick herself, carried me to the hospital in winter and stayed up with me all night! Where were you then? Yes, I’m an adult now and can make money, but what does that have to do with you? If, in your eyes, I’m an outsider, why do you still come begging for my money? Who gave you the nerve? You have no skills, deserved to be laid off, and can’t make money—don’t try to mooch off me! Didn’t you say I was unlucky? Let me be clear—I have no father. I’d rather donate my money or feed it to dogs than give you a cent!" The words tumbled out, hot and furious. Diane gasped, Christopher stared, and Leonard’s face turned purple with rage.

Hearing my barrage of accusations, Leonard exploded and slapped me: "I brought you into this world! You’re my child, you have to give me money!" The slap echoed through the room. My cheek burned, but I refused to cry. I met his gaze, daring him to try again. I was done being scared.

His ugly face and the burning pain made me sick. I tasted blood, but I stood tall. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I almost wanted to fight back. My fists clenched, ready to swing. But Christopher grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the door.

Just as I was about to grab something to hit him with, Christopher pulled my wrist and dragged me away. We stumbled down the stairs, hearts pounding. Leonard’s shouts followed us, but I didn’t look back. I was done with him.

As we left the building, I clearly heard Leonard yelling: "Just my luck to raise two ungrateful brats! Get lost, both of you!" His voice echoed down the block, but I felt lighter with every step. We were free.

With his shouts echoing behind us, Christopher and I sat at the shop entrance, and he handed me an ice pack for my face. The shop owner gave us a sympathetic look, offering a free soda. I pressed the ice to my cheek, grateful for the small kindness. It meant more than I could say.

A girl came by with her little brother to buy Tootsie Rolls. The boy unwrapped the first one and fed it to his sister: "Sis, have some." I watched them, a lump forming in my throat. For a moment, I envied their simple happiness. I wished things could have been different for us.

Watching the loving siblings, we were both at a loss for words. Christopher stared at his shoes, silent. I didn’t know what to say, either. The silence between us was heavy.

After a long while, Christopher whispered, "Sorry." His voice was small, almost lost in the noise of the street. I looked at him, unsure how to respond. I didn’t say anything. Sometimes silence says more than words ever could. I just squeezed his hand, letting him know I heard him. That was enough.

To say I had no resentment toward him would be a lie. The hurt ran deep, but I knew he was a victim, too. We were both survivors of Leonard’s cruelty. I tried to let it go.

But what could I blame him for? He didn’t choose to be born, and even without Diane, Leonard would’ve found someone else… It wasn’t his fault. We were both caught in the crossfire of someone else’s war. I wished things could have been different.

My swollen face showed my embarrassment, but at least I didn’t lose this battle. I touched my cheek, wincing. But inside, I felt stronger than ever. I’d stood up for myself, finally.

The real loser was Leonard. He’d lost control, lost respect, lost his family. All he had left was his own bitterness. That was his legacy, not mine.

Because of this home visit, a rift formed between Leonard and Christopher. The cracks in their relationship widened. Christopher started questioning everything Leonard had ever told him. I felt a small sense of victory.

If Leonard really cared about his son, he’d have to focus on fixing their relationship. I knew Leonard wouldn’t change, but at least his attention was elsewhere. For once, I could breathe easy.

That way, as long as I kept fanning the flames, he’d be too busy to bother me. I kept my distance, but watched from afar, ready to step in if needed. I was always on alert.

Sure enough, I enjoyed a period of peace—but it didn’t last long. Trouble always found a way back in. Leonard was nothing if not persistent. I kept waiting for the next blow.

One morning, just after I got to school, I got a call from Diane. Her voice trembled on the other end. My heart dropped—bad news never waited. I braced myself.

She told me my mother had suffered a heart attack and had been rushed to the hospital. The words barely registered. My hands shook as I grabbed my bag and sprinted out of the building. I was terrified.

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly asked for leave. The principal waved me off, concern etched on his face. “Go. Family comes first.” I ran as fast as I could.

Outside the emergency room, Diane sat on a chair, clutching my mother’s bag. She looked up as I approached, eyes red and swollen. I hugged her, desperate for reassurance. I was so scared.

When she saw me, she stood up quickly: "Your mother had a heart attack while I was waiting at the bus stop nearby. I found her medicine in her bag, gave it to her, and called for help." Her voice shook, but she held it together. I thanked her a thousand times, tears streaming down my face. I was so grateful.

Worried sick, I barely heard a word she said. All I could focus on was the closed door, the beeping machines just beyond reach. I prayed with everything I had.

Thankfully, the doctor soon came out and told me my mother was out of danger. Relief flooded me, so strong I nearly collapsed. Diane caught me, steadying me with gentle hands. I felt like I could breathe again.

"She was brought in quickly and took her medicine right after the attack, so she’s okay now. But she’ll need to stay in the hospital for observation. You can take care of the admission paperwork." I nodded, barely able to speak. My mother was safe. That was all that mattered.

As I relaxed, I almost collapsed, and Diane helped steady me. She guided me to a chair, pressing a bottle of water into my hands. I sipped, grateful for her kindness. I couldn’t thank her enough.

My mother was safe. I whispered a silent prayer, thanking whoever was listening for this second chance. I wouldn’t waste it.

No matter what Diane’s motives were, I was truly grateful. She’d saved my mother’s life. For that, I owed her everything. I would never forget it.

Because I was grateful to her, I cared even more about Christopher, and our relationship grew closer. I started inviting him over for dinner, helping him with homework, showing him what family could look like. It felt good.

Privately, he even started calling me "sis." The first time he said it, I nearly cried. It felt like a healing balm on old wounds. I hugged him, holding on a little longer than necessary.

What surprised me most was that my mother even asked me to look after Christopher at school. She trusted me, believed in me. I promised I’d do my best—for both of them. It meant the world to me.

I couldn’t help but ask: "You really don’t mind?" She smiled, squeezing my hand. “He needs someone, Emily. We all do.” I nodded, tears stinging my eyes.

My mother patted my shoulder and looked at me seriously: "When his mother—Diane—came to see me in the hospital, she told me she was tricked by Leonard. She followed a friend to work in the city, got fired after offending a customer, and had nowhere to go. That’s when she met Leonard, who helped her. He said he was single, so they got together. Later, when she got pregnant, Leonard told her his paperwork was tied up, so they’d marry later. She believed him. She didn’t know she’d been lied to until she ran into me at the mall. I think she’s telling the truth. Both she and I are victims." Her words softened something inside me. Maybe forgiveness was possible, after all.

I’d always thought it was strange that Diane was so submissive and didn’t seem like the type to break up a family. Looking back, it made sense. She was just as lost as the rest of us, caught in Leonard’s web of lies. I felt sorry for her.

Thinking it over, it matched what my mother said. Sometimes the truth is stranger—and sadder—than fiction. Diane’s story made me sigh—and gave me a new idea: maybe I could help her, too.

I started researching support groups, legal aid, anything that might help her get out. If Diane divorced Leonard, she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. She deserved better. We all did. I wanted to help.

But… If she divorced him and they split for good, that old bastard would definitely come after me. The thought sent a chill down my spine. Leonard never let go of a grudge. I had to be careful.

Should I give up my peace to help Diane? I wrestled with the decision, weighing my safety against her happiness. It was a tough call.

I couldn’t decide for a while. Some nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, praying for an answer. I hoped I’d make the right choice.

While I hesitated, time flew by, and soon Christopher was in his third year of junior high. He’d grown taller, his voice deeper. I watched him blossom, pride swelling in my chest. He was becoming his own person.

Not long after the new term began, school leaders called me in. The principal’s office was stuffy, the air thick with tension. I braced myself for bad news. I had a bad feeling.

Leonard had come to the school to complain! He stormed in, waving papers, ranting about favoritism and betrayal. The staff tried to calm him, but he wouldn’t listen. I rolled my eyes.

He told my bosses that I’d abandoned my family, ignored him, and even hit him. He spun wild stories, painting himself as the victim. I bit my tongue, refusing to stoop to his level. I let him dig his own grave.

He also said I used my position to turn his son against him. He accused me of brainwashing Christopher, of sabotaging their relationship. The irony was almost laughable. I couldn’t believe it.

Fortunately, the school leaders were reasonable. They knew Christopher’s good grades were thanks to my teaching. They defended me, pointing to test scores and glowing reviews from other parents. I breathed a little easier.

As for my family affairs, they couldn’t get involved. They made it clear—what happened outside school was none of their business. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least someone was on my side.

But Leonard’s troublemaking still caused a stir. Rumors swirled in the teachers’ lounge. I kept my head down, focusing on my students. I tried to ignore it.

The leaders suggested I take a few days off to handle things at home. I nodded, grateful for the break. Sometimes, distance is the best medicine. I needed time to think.

After leaving school, I didn’t dare go home. I wandered the city, killing time in coffee shops and bookstores. I couldn’t risk bringing trouble to my mother’s door. I felt like a fugitive.

I was afraid my mother would find out about my work troubles. With her health, if she argued with Leonard again, something bad could happen. I called her every night, pretending everything was fine. She never suspected a thing. I hated lying.

To avoid her noticing, I went to a coffee shop to kill time. I sipped lukewarm coffee, watching strangers come and go. It was easier than facing the chaos at home. I felt lost.

When it was time to go home, my phone suddenly rang. The screen flashed Christopher’s name. My heart skipped a beat. I braced myself for more bad news.

It was Christopher, wanting to meet. We agreed to meet at a park bench near the river. The air was cool, the sky streaked with pink and gold. I was nervous.

When he arrived, he got straight to the point: "I just got home, and my mom told me my dad went to school to complain, saying you used your position to get back at him and teach bad things to students, hoping the school would punish you. My mom asked if she should go to school tomorrow to explain." His voice was tight, worry etched into every word. I reached over, squeezing his shoulder. I felt for him.

I didn’t expect Diane to know about this and was even more worried my mother would find out. Panic clawed at my chest. I couldn’t let this spiral out of control. I had to fix it.

I frowned: "Don’t worry, my mom said Aunt Diane’s health isn’t great, so it’s best if she stays calm." He nodded, relief flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sis. I’ll let her know.” His words warmed my heart.

For the first time, I felt like we were really family—united against a common enemy. This mother and son, despite their hardships, were genuinely good to me… I bit my lip and finally made up my mind: "Have you thought about letting Aunt Diane divorce Leonard?" The words hung in the air, heavy and dangerous. I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Maybe it was too much, too soon. But I couldn’t take it back. I worried I’d made a mistake.

On one hand, Christopher was at a crucial stage in junior high and should focus on his studies; on the other, it was a heavy topic for a fifteen-year-old. He was still a kid, after all. I worried I was putting too much on his shoulders.

Sure enough, he fell silent, lips pressed tight. He stared at the ground, jaw clenched. I waited, giving him space to process. I felt awful.