The Day My Daughter Chose Her Over Me - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

But the suffocation I expected never came. A strong hand gripped my arm from behind and yanked me up.
"What the hell are you doing? Today's Sister Lydia's big day, and you pull this stunt?"
I turned to see my stepson, Jasper, breathing hard, his bright eyes burning with fury.
He was one of my targets in this world—and later, the story's most fanatical villain. Obsessed with the heroine, he'd turn against his family, becoming someone even society would shun.
When I married Nolan as his second wife, Jasper was just six. His birth mother was gone, his father always buried in work. The kid ran wild in the streets, desperate for attention but ending up bullied instead.
I took him in. Cleaned him up. Mapped out his future.
Jasper hated school, so I told him, "A man can conquer the world through business."
For the first time, the boy had a dream. His eyes turned red as he whispered, "Can I call you Mom? The other kids laugh at me… say I'm a motherless stray."
When I nodded, he hugged me—so gently, like I might break.
"Mom, when I'm rich, first thing I'll do is buy you a big house. Give you the life you deserve."
But when that day came, his first demand was making Lydia his new mother.
He stopped calling me Mom. Hated me. Because Lydia claimed I was the reason she'd been kidnapped, why she couldn't return to him.
The handsome young man before me now overlapped with that little boy—same face, but his eyes were ice.
"Cut the act. You just want attention, right? If you really wanted to die, why pick the exact spot I'd pass on my way home?"
I had no words. I'd just wanted a peaceful exit, somewhere pretty. Running into Jasper? Never crossed my mind.
When I stayed silent, he sneered, "If you're serious, go somewhere farther. Sister Lydia loves this river. Walks here when it's nice out, so don't—"
He cut himself off.
I bolted to the broken bridge's edge and jumped.
Lydia likes this river?
Good. Maybe she'll avoid it forever now.
My body grew heavy. Distantly, I heard hospital machines beeping.
Dad, Mom—wait for me! Your daughter's coming home!
Just as I thought I'd made it, a force hauled me back to shore.
Jasper stood there, dripping wet. Eyes glistening—tears or river water, who knew?
I smirked up at him. "Changed your mind about me dying?"
His face twisted. "Don't flatter yourself. Your life means nothing to me. But not today. I won't let Sister Lydia's anniversary be ruined by thoughts of you."
Of course. Lydia.
When I didn't react, he dragged me home.
"Move. If you're so set on dying, pick somewhere I won't see it."
I couldn't break free. At the Nolan estate's gates, we collided with my biological son, Declan—sharp in a tailored suit, having rushed back from school.
He took in our soaked state, flicked a glance at me, then addressed Jasper: "Big Brother."
Jasper nodded.
Declan's voice was smooth, detached. "You're soaked. Don't catch cold. Big Brother, change quickly—Sister Lydia and Dad's ceremony starts soon."
Not once did he look at me. Like I wasn't his mother. Like I was air.
In the original story, Declan was lost at birth, raised in an orphanage, his soul steeped in darkness—until the heroine became his light.
But I birthed him. Raised him. Believed blood bound us tighter than any plotline.
I coddled him, terrified he'd vanish like in the book. Did everything myself to keep him safe.
And he grew up perfect: polite, principled, a natural leader. Nothing like the brooding delinquent from the pages.
I never doubted I'd raised him right.
Then Lydia appeared.
My sweet Declan warped into someone I didn't know. He did everything I'd taught him not to, just to spite me.
"Mom's always against Sister Lydia. Mom's the one who's wrong!"
All those morals I'd drilled into him? Weapons turned on me.
"Mom let her get kidnapped. Showed no mercy. How can you call yourself my mother?"
That day, I stood holding the soup I'd woken at dawn to make for him—and he knocked it from my hands.
"I'll never eat your food again."
The pain was unbearable. I slapped him. His eyes filled with hate.
We haven't spoken since.
Now, hearing Jasper's explanation, Declan's brow furrowed. "Big Brother, don't fall for it. With you there, she'd never jump. This is just her play—acting desperate because Sister Lydia's joining the family. You think she'd really give up all this—"
Before he finished, I slammed my head into the doorpost.
If I'm going out, let it be with some dignity. These boys talk too much.
Warm blood trickled down. Darkness swallowed me.
Somewhere, far off, I thought I heard someone scream "Mom!"—raw, shattered.
But maybe it was just the wind.