He Chased His First Love Through the Snow-and Lost Me Chapter 01
My son’s final birthday wish before the cancerÂ
took him was simple: a family trip to DisneyÂ
World.Â
But Garett hated me, and by extension, heÂ
despised our son.Â
I had practically begged him on my hands andÂ
knees for that one day of legal fatherhood. HeÂ
finally nodded, only to vanish into thin air the veryÂ
night before we were supposed to leave.Â
My boy died with that unfulfilled promise heavy onÂ
his chest.Â
It wasn’t until I buried my child in the cold ground,Â
entirely alone, that the mystery of hisÂ
disappearance was solved.Â
A photo popped up on my sister Natasha’sÂ
Instagram. There he was, standing beside her in aÂ
snowy landscape. Her caption read:Â
[You crossed oceans and miles just because I saidÂ
I wanted to see the snow.]Â
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I simply went back to the house, packed my bags, and prepared toÂ
vanish from his life.Â
Yet now, the very man who abandoned us was weeping at my feet, begging me not to leave.Â
***Â
Honestly, Garett throwing the world away forÂ
Natasha didn’t surprise me.Â
I had never been the exception in his life; I wasÂ
always the mistake.Â
In his eyes, I was a scheming woman who usedÂ
underhanded tricks to steal a ring.Â
How could a forced wife ever compete with hisÂ
pristine childhood sweetheart?Â
I returned to the sprawling suburban villa from theÂ
cemetery.Â
This place was supposed to be our marital home,Â
but Garett rarely graced it with his presence.Â
It was just a sanctuary for me and my little Andy.Â
Everywhere I looked, I saw my boy’s fingerprints.Â
Tears blurring my vision, I systematically wiped.Â
away every trace of our existence from the house.Â
As I lugged my heavy suitcase down the marbleÂ
stairs, the front door swung open. It was Garett.Â
He was carrying Natasha in his arms, his face painted with a rare, frantic panic.Â
He brushed past me without a single sidewaysÂ
glance, treating me like a complete stranger under my own roof. I was used to it.Â
Wherever Natasha was, I became invisible.Â
But as his eyes caught the suitcase resting by my boots, Garett abruptly stopped. His voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.Â
“Vivian, what kind of pathetic tantrum are you throwing now?”Â
Natasha wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, looking up at me with mock innocence. “Vivian, please don’t be mad. I twisted my ankle, and Garett said this place was closest. He just brought me here to tend to it. You don’t mind, doÂ
you?”Â
A twisted ankle. That was all it took.Â
I watched as Garett laid her on the velvet sofa with agonizing gentleness, handling her like a piece of priceless porcelain as he brought out an ice pack.Â
Years ago, when a car crash left my legs shattered and I needed a legal guardian’s signature forÂ
emergency surgery, I had called him from the ER.Â
His response had been a chilling sneer, “Your legsÂ
are broken, not your throat. Why are you botheringÂ
me unless you’re dead?”Â
But he was the only family I had left in the world. In the end, I had to stall the doctors and beg a casual acquaintance to sign the papers. Love and apathy have very distinct boundaries.Â
I stared at him, my voice completely steady.Â
“Garett, you get your wish. We are… through. I’m leaving.”Â

