His Destructive, Toxic Love

He glanced at the mother and son duo in the rearview mirror and said, somewhat meekly, "Okay."Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Casper, who had lost his memory, was indeed much more mild-mannered than the Casper of the past.

Maybe, deep down, he wasn't a bad-tempered person to begin with. Perhaps encountering her had turned him into a villain.

How strange.

How did she end up blaming herself?

In this marriage, she was the victim, even if she shouldn't have trapped him with that marriage contract. He shouldn't have treated her that way, right?

Forget it. It's all water under the bridge now. After several brushes with death, she had come to see the past in a much dimmer light.

On the road, David called Eliza to ask if she had picked up Brock.

"We've got him, we're on our way home now."

"The roads are slippery in the rain, drive carefully," came the gentle voice from the other end.

Eliza hummed softly, "I know, don't worry about us."

"You really like David?" The man driving in front asked jealously, noting how tenderly she spoke to another man. "You never talk to me like that." "You and he are incomparable."

Regardless of liking or not, David and the Simmons family had always been very kind to her. With them, she at least didn't feel burdened. But, whether with the old Casper or the now amnesiac Casper, she always felt immense pressure. She could never relax, and she really hated that feeling.

"Does Brock like him?" Casper asked the little guy in the rearview mirror. "Brock, do you like Mr. David or Mr. Casper more?"

"I like Mr. Casper."

The child's innocence was endearing, and his words were genuine.

Casper felt a warmth in his heart. "Then would you like Mr. Casper to be your dad?"

Eliza: ...

What nonsense is this man spouting?

"Casper, could you please watch what you say?"

"Mr. Casper, what's a dad?" The little guy blinked his innocent eyes. "Kids at preschool say I'm a wild child without a dad, but I've never seen my dad." "What?"

It was the first time Eliza heard about this from her son. Her heart tightened.

"Baby, do the kids say you're a wild child without a dad?"

The little guy seemed accustomed to such remarks. His expression was calm as if telling a story. "The first time they said it, I cried."

Hearing this, her heart felt as if it

were sliced by a sharp knife, the pain

so real and breath-stealing. This

pain was deep helplessness, the agony of being powerless to change reality. She hugged her son tightly, wishing to erase all the hurt he had endured with her embrace. Her eyes gradually moistened, but she held back, not letting the tears fall.

Casper noticed her emotions, turned the steering wheel, and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Feeling upset?"

Eliza wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. "I didn't expect him to be bullied like that in preschool." "Kids are thoughtless; they don't know any better."

"Once, Brock was pushed down at preschool and got hurt all over. I thought kids shouldn't be taken too seriously, but..." She realized she was wrong. Terribly wrong. She should have faced and even

vel

magnified this issue. That way, no ignorant child would take joy in bullying her child. Isn't every child a treasure? Is it a crime to be fatherless?

"...I'll talk to the teacher. I've been too lenient before."

"In less formal preschools, these issues are more common. Comez back to Falconridge with me, I can get the little guy into the best preschool there, where no one would dare bully him."

He patted his chest in assurance.

She glanced at him disinterestedly as if he had spoken nonsense. "Drive."