Chapter 3 Are You Worthy of Being a Mother?

Evelyn finished up her lab work and briefed David on the follow-up arrangements. By the time she got home, it was already 11 PM.

The rain had stopped. The night sky was clear, and the villa district was so quiet you could hear insects chirping.

Standing at her front door, she noticed the light was still on in Andy's second-floor room. Her brows furrowed slightly.

Usually at this hour, Andy would already be asleep.

As if sensing something, Evelyn took a deep breath, then pulled out her keys and opened the door.

She saw a pair of bright red high heels—pointed toe, thin stiletto heels—brazenly lying across the middle of the hallway.

Laughter from a woman and a child came from the living room.

Evelyn froze for a moment, then took off her rain and mud-stained flats and walked barefoot across the floor, step by step, toward the sound.

In the warm glow of the living room, Luke was leaning back on the long sofa, looking relaxed.

Maggie sat beside him in a silk robe, with about one person's width between them.

Andy was sitting on Maggie's lap, his little head resting against her chest, eyes glued to the cartoon on the TV screen, giggling.

Evelyn found it all bitterly ironic. She steadied herself and walked in.

The sound of footsteps startled the three people in the living room.

Andy turned his head first. The moment he saw her, the smile vanished from his face.

"Why are you back?" His tone was full of annoyance.

Luke also looked up, frowning slightly. "Coming home this late."

Evelyn ignored them and walked straight toward the stairs. "I'm back to pack some things. Business trip for a few days."

"Business trip?" Luke's voice carried doubt. "You just opened the lab and you're already going on a trip?"

"I'm the head of the lab. I don't need to report everything to Mr. Miller." Evelyn didn't look back.

"Stop right there." Luke stood up. "I haven't settled accounts with you yet about Andy's allergic reaction."

"Andy was sick and hospitalized, and you didn't even visit him. Do you deserve to be called a mother?"

She smirked, thinking, 'I don't deserve it?'

Evelyn finally stopped and turned to face him. "What would change if I went? Would you make Maggie leave? Or would you admit that it was your and Maggie's wrong decision that caused Andy's allergic reaction?"

They stared at each other, the atmosphere instantly becoming tense.

Maggie quickly interjected, "Evelyn, don't blame Mr. Miller. It's all my fault."

Her eyes immediately filled with tears. "I really didn't know that cake contained gluten. The shop said it was all organic..."

"You didn't know?" Evelyn laughed coldly. "Even Andy's kindergarten teacher knows how severe his gluten allergy is. You're his father's senior assistant, you've been taking care of him for so long—you didn't know?"

"I did remind Maggie." Luke took over. "But she was too busy that day and probably overlooked it. Who can avoid making mistakes all the time? But you—you knew Andy's allergy was serious, yet out of spite, you refused to go to the hospital. Evelyn, when did you become so petty?"

Evelyn looked at this man before her. After five years of marriage, this was the first time his face seemed so unfamiliar.

"I'm petty?"

She repeated the words, her voice soft but carrying a long-suppressed tremor.

"Luke, our son, told me to get lost in public and threw things at me. Not only did you not correct him, but you also blamed me for making a big deal out of it. Now he's in the hospital because of your negligence, and somehow I'm the petty one?"

"So what do you want?" Luke's tone was full of impatience. "Maggie already apologized, Andy's fine now. How long are you going to keep harping on this?"

"I want her to leave this house," Evelyn said each word clearly. "Right now."

The living room fell into brief silence.

Andy suddenly broke free from Maggie's embrace, ran off the sofa barefoot, rushed up to Evelyn, and pushed her hard.

"You leave! This is my home! Don't you bully Maggie!"

Evelyn wasn't prepared and stumbled back a step, her waist hitting the stair railing—a dull pain.

"Andy!" She finally couldn't help raising her voice. "I'm your mother! Is this how you treat your mother?"

But Andy reacted as if he'd been stung, instantly becoming furious. "You're not my mother! Maggie is!"

With that, he grabbed the glass fruit bowl from the coffee table and threw it at Evelyn without thinking.

"Get out, you bad person!"

Evelyn dodged to the side. The bowl smashed against the wall behind her, shattering, glass shards flying everywhere.

A sharp fragment sliced across her bare arm, and blood immediately began to seep out.

"Andy!"

Maggie cried out and ran over, pulling Andy into her arms with her back to Evelyn, as if protecting him from harm.

"It's okay, I'm here, don't be scared."

She turned to look at Evelyn, her tone full of reproach. "Evelyn, how can you scare a child like this? He's still young; he doesn't understand. Can't you just let it go?"

Luke also walked over. He first checked on his son in Maggie's arms, and after confirming he was okay, turned his gaze to Evelyn.

Seeing the blood on her arm, he frowned even more deeply, but what he said was, "Why are you arguing with a child? He doesn't know better—don't you either?"

Evelyn looked down at the long, thin wound on her arm. Blood was slowly spreading along the texture of her skin, forming a glaring red line.

She suddenly remembered when Andy was three years old—he ran too fast in the park and fell, scraping his knee. She had held him tenderly and rushed to the hospital.

The whole way, he cried his heart out, and her heart ached along with him.

During the bandaging, he kicked wildly from the pain and accidentally kicked her chin. Her first reaction then was to check if his foot was hurt.

And now, her own son had thrown a glass bowl at her, and her husband was blaming her for scaring the child.

"Right," Evelyn repeated softly, then suddenly laughed. "I'm the one who doesn't know better."

She crouched down and began picking up the glass shards from the floor, piece by piece.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked.

"Cleaning up, so your precious son and Maggie don't get hurt." Evelyn didn't look up, her movements mechanical.

A particularly sharp shard cut across her fingertip, blood dripping onto the pristine marble floor, a vivid crimson.

She seemed not to feel the pain and continued picking up the pieces.

Maggie held Andy, coaxing him softly, "Don't be scared, baby. Let's go upstairs and take a bath, okay? I'll read you the new storybook I bought."

The two of them walked upstairs, embracing each other. As they passed Evelyn, Andy deliberately snorted at her.

Evelyn picked up the last piece of glass and stood up.

She threw the shards in the trash, pulled out a tissue to press against the wound on her hand—the blood quickly soaked through.

"The first aid kit is under the TV cabinet." Luke's voice came from behind, reluctance in his eyes, but still, he made no move.

Evelyn didn't respond and headed straight upstairs.

"Where are you going?" Luke followed her.

"Packing. Business trip." Evelyn answered briefly.

She walked to the master bedroom door and gripped the handle, only to find it locked.

"Where's the key?" She turned to Luke.

A flash of discomfort crossed Luke's face. "Maggie hasn't been sleeping well lately. The upstairs guest room is a bit noisy near the street, so I let her stay in the master bedroom temporarily."

Evelyn felt her breathing stop for a moment.

Great. She, the legal wife, hadn't even left yet, and Maggie had already moved into her bedroom.

Were they really that impatient?

"Open it. I need to get my things." She was too tired to argue anymore.

Luke's brow tightened slightly. "Maggie said there were too many things in the master bedroom and she couldn't sleep. I had Bianca move your stuff to the first-floor storage room temporarily."

Evelyn whipped her head around to look at him, something in her eyes making Luke instinctively step back half a pace.

It was an expression he had never seen in her eyes before—

Not anger, not sadness, but a silent, icy coldness.

"Luke." Evelyn smiled. "You're really something."

Luke pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Evelyn didn't want to stay in this house another moment. She turned and headed for the first floor, her steps somewhat unsteady.

Luke followed her down, his tone carrying a warning. "Maggie is taking care of Andy right now. Don't make a scene, Evelyn."