"I'm seeing Leo this afternoon."

Seraphina let out a small laugh, then turned on her heel and clicked her way to the bathroom to wash up.

From beginning to end, she was a queen, too proud to ever lower her head, not even to offer me a single, simple explanation.

When my wife came out of the bathroom, she pulled a gift-wrapped box from her purse and tossed it on the sofa.

"Wear this this afternoon. Try to look presentable and don't embarrass me. Consider it another anniversary gift."

I glanced at it and wanted to laugh.

The watch I’d thrown out, this re-wrapped tie... they were all Jace's hand-me-downs.

Ever since Jace appeared, the Seraphina who used to put so much thought into surprising me had vanished.

My so-called anniversary gifts were now just her childhood friend's leftovers, tossed to me like scraps.

I was just like those things. Used, discarded, and replaced.

I took a deep breath, went downstairs, and got in the car. Seraphina, still hungover, didn't even have the energy to pretend to care about me.

"Leo would probably like this kid's watch. Pick one out for him. Hmm, this sapphire blue one is the nicest."

I said nothing, but I remembered the video call. Jace had been wearing a sapphire blue watch. My wife had a matching one on her wrist.

It was as if they were the family of three, not just with their clothes, but now with matching accessories.

The air in the car suddenly felt thick and suffocating.

Seeing my silence, my wife frowned impatiently.

"Forget it. Your taste is so old-fashioned. Jace's picks are always better. Leo loves everything he gets for him."

I almost laughed out loud. Of course, I didn't know what my son liked.

He was my son, yet that outsider, Jace, had spent more time with him than I, his own father, ever had.

After Leo was born, the Prescotts took him.

They said they were afraid a man from a poor background like me would give him "bad habits."

He had to receive the Prescott's "elite education."

From then on, I needed my wife's permission just to see my own son.

And the Prescotts would only let me see him grudgingly.

But Jace, the highly-educated elite, was a different story.

He went to the Prescott estate every day. Leo even followed him around, constantly calling him "Daddy Jace."

How pathetic. The son I wasn't even allowed to hold was cuddling in another man's arms.

The Prescotts looked down on me and never wanted me as their son-in-law.

But Jace? They would welcome him with open arms.

Seraphina put down her phone and shot me a look.

"You'd better be on your best behavior when you see Leo. And don't forget, without the Prescott family, you are nothing."

I suddenly smiled.

Yes, the Prescotts were a powerful family. Why would they ever accept a common man like me?

But the most bitter irony was that, for a family so rich, my own mother—Seraphina's mother-in-law—had died in a hospital bed because they wouldn't pay for her treatment.

I still remember that day. My mom wanted to see her daughter-in-law one last time. I called Seraphina, but she was on a "photoshoot trip" with her childhood friend and hung up on me.

Without the Prescotts, I'm nothing. But with them, I'm treated worse than their dog.

My son. If it wasn't for my son...

After my mother's funeral, I drank myself into a stupor on the side of the road, numb with grief.

A little girl passing by saw me. She gave me a lollipop and asked me why I was crying, if I didn't have a home.

I held her flowers, said nothing, and tilted my head to the sky, refusing to let the tears fall.

Once upon a time...

Seraphina was the girl who would happily eat instant ramen with me in our tiny apartment.

The perfect girlfriend who would stand by my side at our little street-side stall at night.

To get her family's approval, she had threatened them, and with a baby on the way, the Prescotts finally, reluctantly, allowed me—the poor, low-class man in their eyes—to marry into their family.

To make her proud, I studied like my life depended on it, became the top student at my university, and earned a position at the family company on my own merit. But one word—"moocher"—erased all my efforts.

The Prescotts, ashamed of me, stuck me in an entry-level position and left me there.

For eight years.

But the moment Jace came back, he became my wife's personal assistant.

That night, all my beautiful memories were scattered to the wind, never to return.