Chapter 3

WMODSR Chapter 3

My breath was haggard and my heart was pounding uncontrollably.

The biggest pain of my life, not being able to give birth to Bliss, resurfaced and made me feel  terrified and lonely.

I realized it too late.

‘Let’s be calm. At this time, Bliss doesn’t know that his mother died giving birth to him. He doesn’t even know that I’m not his biological mother.’

The eight-year-old Bliss treated Julia, his father’s mistress, more like a mother than he ever did to me.

Julia.

She claims to be Cortizan in her own words; however, she was a housewife 10 years older than me.

Not being satisfied just with my husband, she even stole my son’s heart.

Indeed, Any man would love her.

Julia is a lot prettier than me.

Indeed, the Marquis of Arista, who died, was impatient to give her liver and gallbladder.

Moreover; unlike me, she only pampered Bliss, even if he grabbed the innocent maid’s(Mary) hair.

It’s no wonder that it doesn’t matter whether she, who is just a mistress, will become a Marquises of the future Marquises of Arista.

For her, all she had to do was hang out with my husband until he got tired of it, then pack up her belongings and leave.

But here she was, playing family games with my husband and my son.

In the meantime, I was busy raising Bliss. My hands were shaking, realizing it in the hard years I had forgotten.

I felt like throwIng that bastard and his son away.

That sounds right. Bliss isn’t my real son, and I didn’t marry my husband because I liked him.

‘I was a substitute of Bliss’ mother, who died after giving birth to Bliss.’

I was 20 years old; kidnapped the day I a legal adult by my widower husband.

Nothing happened fortunately, but the scandal always frustrated me.

My parents married me to the Marquis to put an end to the scandal.

It was just as the Marquis had planned from the beginning.

I did struggle to escape from this beggar-like fate.

The truth is, I ran away after the wedding; however, the face of Young Bliss never left my mind, so I had no choice but to go home again.

I took comfort in the words of a fortune teller I met on the street.

“When you get married, your wishes will come true easily.”

It was not true in the least.

All I wanted was a family where I could trust and depend on others. I was able to love Bliss for the same reason.

‘But my devotion and love ended in my death.’

Moreover, a death at the hands of his son.

I tried to calm my voice that was trembling like an aspen tree.

“Bliss. Why am I your fake mother? How hard I worked to raise you!”

“You’re fake! Even the Marquess room was stolen from my real mother!!”

My self-esteem was hurt, and I wanted to cry.

But, I came to a realization.

Nothing will change by crying; besides, what impression would it have on the small Bliss?

‘It is the fear of beating a child restraining me, but it’s still a lot better than him treating me like a bug in the future.’

Keeping in mind the fact that I wouldn’t stand still for insults like before, I started to see that Bliss reacted.

It never happened before the return.

It is indeed complicated

‘All the trouble he caused is because I didn’t punish him when I should have, because I liked him.’

looking at the child’s face was painful to say the least .

I should have beaten Bliss from the beginning.

The frustration, the devotion and the tears she shed while raising the child alone were plenty enough to fill many ponds. (EN: trying to say immeasurable pain, suffering and sacrifice.)

I swallowed the rising tears yet again.

“I neither want to make you feel like you grew up being hit, nor do I want my golden child to grow up to be an animal.”

“Stop talking nonsense and get out of my room right now!”

If voice could have form, then Bliss’s voice would be considered thorny.

I bit my trembling lower lip, praying that he will hear my painstakingly squeezed voice.

“Bliss, there is only one way for you to get me out of your room.”

“…..”

“Don’t curse, and attend the funeral. Then I’ll leave.”

Seeing me nailed in place, Bliss rolled his feet in annoyance.

“I’m really going to tell my real mom!”

“Hey! Do you think I will worry about Julia at this age?”

“You couldn’t even say anything after she slapped you!”

my back froze at that moment.

It was an unfamiliar experience no matter how many times I went through it.

The fact that I could hate the man’s child who has raised my flesh and bones so much. (EN: fed her, apparently)

Bliss grinned mischievously, thinking I was speechless because I was afraid of Julia.

“It’s too late to regret. Wait and see! I’m going to ask real mom to hit you again!”

I furrowed my eyebrows and twisted my lips.

“No. Julia can’t hit me anymore. Because your father, who allowed her to do so, is no longer in this world.”

“Damn!”

“You will not stop me. There will be no one between us from now on, Bliss.”

I snorted and started undressing the child.

He tried many times to get out of my grip, only in vain.

I took out the mourning clothes from the closet, and started dressing Bliss, who was trying to run, only wearing his underwear.

“Wear it. Or you have to go to the funeral naked.”

“Hey!”

Bliss spit on my cheek. An aura of rebellion was etched on the child’s face.

My heart throbbed in pain; however, I won’t waste my time arguing with him again.

I wiped my face, pretending to be well, then picked up the mourning shirt and forced it into his arms.

Recalling the promise I made some time ago, that I would never put my hand on Bliss again, like a spell.

Finally, putting on Bliss’s mourning clothes, I reached out for the child’s hand. I will have him attend the funeral, even if I have to drag him.

Suddenly… slap!

Bliss slapped my hand as I was reaching out to grab his hand.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?”

Bliss’s expression was unfamiliar, compelling me to comment.

Two bitter eyes and a protruding nose.

It looks like his grumpy and twisted lips would pour out his tears at any moment.

Bliss exclaimed.

“Why do I have to attend the funeral of someone who died from a deadly accident while playing on horseback with a prostitute?! Such a person cannot be my father!”

It felt like someone had smashed the back of my head with a hammer.

‘Bliss knew his dad well!’

and,

‘God. The word prostitute is coming out of the mouth of an 8-year-old boy!’

I wanted to shake the arm of the dead Marquis Arista with all my might.

‘You madman! Why does this little boy know R19 words already!’

But what can I do, the situation is already messed up.

There was a pin-drop silence.

Come to think of it, Bliss has always been stubborn and has strong self-esteem since childhood.

I’m choking up.

Even I couldn’t understand, but Bliss understood the whole story; I felt sorry for my baby.

I still hated Bliss, but at the same time I loved him.

If the Marquis and I hadn’t been Bliss parents, this child would have had a better life, not even exaggerating.

I couldn’t help it. Since I was kidnapped by the Marquis and met the 1-year-old Bliss, I fell in fateful love.

I could vividly recall that day as if just yesterday.

That day, the crying child stopped and laughed softly as soon as got in my arms.

The young Bliss had the characteristic smell of baby milk and sunshine, it felt warm.

I was dragged out of nowhere and panicked to the point of even forgetting that I had a child to take care of.

Until I barely made it home, Bliss didn’t eat or sleep.

Bliss needed me as a mother.

It was the same, then and now.

I guess that’s why I have no intention of sacrificing myself for Bliss, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make him grow up to be the same asshole as in my previous life.

I cleared my throat with a firm resolve.

“Listen here Bliss, I don’t know where you heard that, but your dad died from a normal horse incident.”

“Don’t lie!”

“I am not lying, you know that. How much did father like horse riding?”

“Really?”

No. It was lie.

‘Sorry Bliss. In fact, your father broke his neck and died after falling off a horse while molesting a woman he disliked.’

But as a mother, I had to somehow wrap up the death of Marquis Arista in a good way.

Unlike her dead husband, this was a matter of Bliss’s self-esteem, which had a long way to go.

After all, nothing hurts a child more than a parent insulting their spouse in front of the t hem.

Indeed. Bliss’s energy was swept away by my earnest persuasion.

Bliss licked his lips and grumbled.

“But everyone thinks Daddy died unsightly.”

“So you have to be bolder. We did nothing wrong.”

“…..”

“Let’s go. To see Daddy off.”

Bliss’ blue eyes rolled to one side.

Before long, my cub pouted his lips.

“Stay away. I will go on my feet!”

Tak! Bliss slapped my shoulder hard on the side and ran out of the room.

I rubbed the side that was hit by the child.

The corners of my lips, which had been forcibly raised, trembled.

“My side hurts a little, but I’m glad I convinced him anyway. Ouch.. It really hurt!”

That child! he’s really violent!

“No wonder, that temperament resembles his dad.”

I put up with the desire to grab the child in the back of my head and fed him honey chestnuts right away.

***

In conclusion, I attended the funeral service with Bliss.

Moreover, Bliss welcomed the guests with me in a different and dignified form.

It was a great attitude.

That’s not surprising at all.

Marquis Arista’s banquet hall was decorated as a chapel.

Bliss, who sat in the front seat closest to the priest, finally started sobbing.

Unlike me, who roughly wiped dry tears with a handkerchief, Bliss next to me really cried a lot.

‘He said he wouldn’t attend the funeral, but is quiet now that the funeral has begun.’

My appetite got bitter.

‘Bliss. 45 years later, did you cry at my funeral? Would you have any regrets for poisoning me?’

I felt dizzy with questions I could never know the answer to.

But I had to make up my mind.

I don’t know what awaited me at the end of my devoted love for his son.

‘So, let’s not be depressed any more and focus on the funeral.’

Above all else, isn’t this a golden opportunity to say one last goodbye to the Marquis of Arista?

I shouted out the true feelings in my mind that I had been holding down in my heart for the past few decades.

‘Hey, you asshole! You should’ve been playing the role of a playboy in moderation. How long have you been living in a luxury class? You’ll get your share at the entrance to hell!’

Funeral services for nobles were held at the Great Hall of the religion of the family in question.

However, it’s not for the funeral of Marquis Arista.

The shrine refused to conduct the funeral service because of Marquis Arista’s reputation and  deeds.

So I stole three gold candle stands from my husband’s room. The three golden candle stands went straight into the pocket of the priest standing on the podium.

‘Because you can’t have a funeral without a priest. Thinking back, I couldn’t help but steal the gold candle stands. I don’t even have the key to the treasury.’

Anyway, buying a priest for a funeral like this is a joke that gets stuck on the back of our hats when Bliss and I get kicked out of the family to wander the streets.

‘But it won’t happen this time.’

Unlike in the past, it is not because it is no longer embarrassing to buy a priest with money.

‘This time, I will never be kicked out of the estate!’

Let it come, I will make sure that no one can laugh at me and Bliss.

I had a confidence that I had never seen, with my memories and the wise mind I achieved at the age of 73.

It was natural. Even if it’s bad, as long as there is a child to take care of, a mother can accomplish anything. (EN: Even a mother deer can kill a lion for her child.)

So now is the time to inherit the legacy of the deceased Marquis Arista.

To be continued-