“My mom is just a housewife who doesn’t know anything. She only ever hangs around the kitchen! A Broadway show is way too classy for her—she wouldn’t understand it. Buying her a ticket would just be a waste of money!”
My whole body stiffened, the blood draining from my face.
Unbelievable. The son I carried for ten months and raised with my own hands was belittling me like this in front of outsiders?
Hearing Ethan, Jason frowned slightly, his tone carrying a hint of reproach,
“Ethan, watch your mouth. You can’t talk about your mom like that!”
For a moment, I thought he was finally going to take my side.
But the very next second, his words shoved me straight into the abyss.
“Rachel, really, why argue with a child? Kids just say what’s on their minds! Look at yourself—”
Jason paused, his eyes sweeping over my faded house clothes and bare face, unable to hide the disdain.
“You’re always looking so worn out, like some frumpy housewife. Isn’t it normal for Ethan to be embarrassed by you?”
“Ms. Emily is young, beautiful, gentle, and she knows art. Of course Ethan likes her—who doesn’t like beautiful things?”