Chapter 1The Cost of Deep Regret

The famous movie star posted a tribute to her deceased lover, and my five-year-old son called the police on her.

"If you're building a persona of a heartbroken lover, why are you posting my Daddy's picture?"

Chloe Wood's eyes were red as she explained, "It's not marketing. That's a picture of my deceased fiancé."

The photo showed me at eighteen.

She didn't love me then. She said I was the person she hated most.

Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it:

[Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I'll never see your face again.]

Everyone praised her devotion, envying me for being loved by her even in death.

My son's cheeks puffed up, and he yelled fiercely:

"That is my Daddy! He is not dead! You can't see your lover's face, so you decided to publicly cremate my Daddy online, didn't you?"

* * *

"Daddy, Baby needs to ask you something."

My five-year-old son, Ethan, suddenly ran up to me. His plump, red lips were pursed, and he said seriously:

"Confess honestly and you'll be treated leniently. Resist and you'll be punished severely, got it?"

I paused, slightly stunned. I rubbed his cheek, annoyed.

"What good baby treats his Daddy like a criminal? You're being too presumptuous, little man."

He batted my hand away, his small face serious and fierce, like a tiny adult.

"Daddy, be serious! Answer the question honestly."

"Are you sick? Really sick, and you're hiding it from me?"

I stiffened. I wondered why the little guy was suddenly asking this.

Ethan saw my reaction and assumed he had figured out my secret. He has a beautiful, sculpted face, a natural birthmark on his forehead, making him look like a picture-perfect cherub.

He looked at me, pouting, his eyes glistening.

"Don't pretend, Daddy. I know everything."

I was completely dumbfounded. What did this little guy know? Was he just quoting something abstract he saw online?