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Chapter Eleven 

News of Mason reached me again half a year later, as his life drew to a close due to illness. 

According to his mother, Mason had developed uremia. 

Years of heavy drinking had exacerbated his condition to a terminal stage, beyond the reach of medical intervention by the time it was diagnosed. 

With no viable kidney source, Mason was left with only waiting for death. 

“Mason’s condition worsens by the day. I 

implore you, please come back to see him! As a mother, I only wish for him to find some 

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happiness in his remaining days,” she pleaded over the phone. 

After hanging up, I was at a loss for what to do. 

“Dad, do you think I should go see Mason? Luca’s grandmother says it’s just a matter of one or two days,” I asked, hesitant. 

I didn’t want to go, but I also wanted to consider Mason’s mother and Father, who genuinely cared for the little one. 

“Go. It will fulfill an old man’s wish and settle things between Luca and his father once and for all,” Dad advised. 

lan wanted to accompany me, but I declined. 

After all, he had already worn himself out half 

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his life for me and my mother. I didn’t want to trouble him with this small matter. 

As soon as I reached the exit, I saw Father and Mason’s mother waiting anxiously. They awkwardly embraced the little one, crying that Mason had been waiting for us all along. 

I raised an eyebrow, noncommittal. 

Inside the hospital room, Mason lay weakly on the bed, his face gaunt and far from the lively spirit of before. 

“You’ve come,” he said softly, but I avoided his intense gaze, coughing lightly and looking around expressionlessly. 

He used to be indifferent, now showing such deep sentiment. This Mason truly was a joke. 

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After Mason’s mother took the child away, the room fell into a heavy silence. 

It was a long while before he spoke again. “Ulrica.” 

“Mason, let me be honest with you. The only reason I’m here is out of respect for your parents.” 

“I brought Luca here today just to fulfill that thin father–son bond between you two. After you’re gone, you and he will have no more ties,” I stated plainly. 

His face fell instantly at my words. 

“Ulrica, do I truly mean nothing to you 

anymore?” 

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His eyes slowly dimmed as I continued to 

remain silent. 

“Not at all,” I finally replied. 

Mason passed away at 3,35 in the afternoon. 

Mason’s mother collapsed in tears over his hospital bed, and Father Mason’s eyes reddened quietly, the whole room thrown into disarray. 

Walking out of the hospital gates, the little one looked up at me, puzzled. “Mommy, who was he?” 

I gazed at the crimson sky and answered him earnestly, “Someone who made mistakes, someone who was stubborn.” 

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“Little one, Mommy hopes you’ll grow up to be kind, brave, free–spirited, daring in love and in hate, unlike him.” 

Though the child didn’t quite grasp my words, he obediently agreed, seeing my serious expression. 

“Let’s go home.” 

Under the lingering glow of the setting sun, hand in hand, we walked away. 

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