A Mother's Day From Hell

Five years ago on Mother’s Day, my son handed me the most unforgettable gift of my life—a five-million-dollar debt. As a designer, I drew sketches frantically by day and worked graveyard shifts at night. I worked myself to the bone, ruining my health just to scrape together the cash. Covered in grease and sweat, I went to pay off the loan shark. Only to see my son, Tyler, and my ex-husband, Richard Sterling, sitting in a VIP private lounge in tailored suits, while the ruthless loan shark bowed, smiled, and toasted them with expensive liquor. Father and son acted like high-and-mighty overlords. "Mr. Sterling, I really tried my best. Who knew your ex-wife was this stubborn? She’d rather work herself to death than come begging to you for help." Tyler stood up, reassuring his father with a smug grin. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll just fake another twenty-million-dollar debt. She’ll have to crawl back to you this time!" Richard put down his cigar, rose to his feet, and patted Tyler on the shoulder. "Dad, I’ve got my eye on a new sports car. What do you think?" "Go to finance tomorrow and cash the check. It's just a car. Remember, Tyler, you're the sole heir to Sterling Enterprises." Sterling Enterprises had risen meteorically in the business world over the past decade, monopolizing industries across New York. Even the fashion firm I slaved away for was owned by them. When Tyler graduated from college, he often sighed with envy, wondering why he didn’t have a billionaire father with the same last name. "My son is brilliant. You'll stand at the top of the pyramid one day." Back then, Tyler had smiled and nodded. Perhaps even at that moment, he had already secretly reunited with Richard. The booming music in the club pounded against my ears. Cold sweat drenched my body, and a bitter, acidic ache twisted in my gut. Yet what they said next plunged me straight into an arctic abyss. "It's all my mom's fault. You were just fooling around with a few women on the side, and she made a huge deal out of it and divorced you. She ruined my chance at the good life!" "She's completely clueless. Without your networking back then, how would you have built this empire? Women are just petty." I would never forget the day I caught Richard cheating, finding him and that mistress entangled in a hotel bed. In all the years since the divorce, he had never paid a single cent in child support. I raised Tyler with blood, sweat, and tears. Back then, Tyler was such a good kid. Knowing how hard I worked, he wanted to ease my burden and started a venture right after college. Instead, on Mother’s Day, he broke down and told me the startup collapsed, his partner ran off, and he was drowning in debt. I watched thugs bang on our door, throwing red paint, threatening to chop off Tyler's fingers if the debt wasn't cleared. Without a second thought, I stood in front of my boy and took on every penny of that crushing debt. As a veteran senior designer, I shouldn't have had to break my back drafting sketches anymore. But the debt was staggering, so I began taking freelance gigs under the table. My company caught on. Citing a breach of contract, HR claimed they were doing me a favor because of my seniority, demoting me to an entry-level design assistant. My income plummeted. Left with no choice, I spent my days drafting plans and my nights cleaning grease at a fast-food joint. Five grueling years slipped away like this, but the debt rolled like a snowball, growing heavier each day. Then, Tyler pulled a disappearing act. I was his mother—what else could I do? I begged the loan shark for an extension. The debt collector was ruthless. Money was money; why should he show mercy? Thinking of my son’s future, I dropped to my knees, begging and slamming my forehead against the cold floor until blood trickled down. Afraid I would drop dead on the spot, the collector finally agreed to let me pay in installments. I was never a weak woman. For my son, I forged myself into steel. That was the power of a mother's love. Little did I know it was all a sick, calculated trap. In love and in money, I had been utterly played. A wave of crushing despair washed over me. Trembling, I dialed an old friend. "Violet, you once said you wanted me as the creative director for your design firm. Does the offer still stand?"Silence stretched across the line. Just as my heart sank, Violet burst into tears of joy. "Get over here right this second! With your talent, you could run the entire company, let alone the design department!" "Back then, you threw away your career for marriage and a baby. Even after the divorce, when you finally returned to the industry, you gave it all up again for that spoiled brat." "You literally had an admission offer from the top design academy in Milan, and you tossed it in the trash!" "We're preparing for our massive end-of-year runway show. The design team is working in a closed-off retreat right now. Think about it." I raised my shaking right hand and caught sight of my haggard reflection in the mirror. "I don't need to think about it. But... my age..." "Stop overthinking! We all know your vision and your technical genius." "The pieces you designed years ago are still timeless bestsellers at House of C. Settle your business in New York. I’ll send a car for you this Monday." I hung up, determined to put an end to this nightmare once and for all. I pushed open the door to the VIP room. Tyler froze in place before rushing to my side, panic flashing across his face. "Mom! You're finally here! Where were you? They were about to kill me!" The loan shark stood up and delivered a stinging slap across Tyler's back. "Got the money? We had a deal, lady. The deadline's up today. If the funds aren't here, I’m taking one of your son's fingers." Richard leaned back, eyes narrowed with amusement. "Evelyn, is this how you raised my boy? Or maybe you can beg me. Come back and be my maid, and I’ll make this go away." "After all, you wouldn't want to watch your only son get mutilated, would you?" "Or if you're too proud to beg, I have a quick-cash job for you." "You've aged decently over the years. I know a high-end parlor that loves mature MILFs like you. What do you think?" Raucous laughter exploded in the room. Tyler flushed red, burning with humiliation. "Mom, did you bring the cash or not? Just give it to them!" "What are you waiting for? Do you actually want them to cut off my finger?!" Trembling with rage, I refused to play their sick game. I reached into my coat and pulled out a bank draft. "Here’s one million dollars. From this second on, our debt is settled." I turned to leave. "Hold on. Who said one million is enough?" "Sweetheart, your son borrowed one million. We run a business, not a charity. What about the interest?" The loan shark grabbed my wrist hard. From the corner of my eye, I caught Richard giving him a subtle signal. Instantly, the man released me. "Mom, I... I forgot to mention, they want astronomical interest! If we don't pay, they'll break my legs!" "Mom, I’m your only son! You can't just leave me to die!" Tyler dropped to his knees, wailing theatrically. "Mom, you have to help me! You have to save me!" "Why don't you just beg Dad? Apologize to him! We can be a happy family of three again! Wouldn't that be great?" "Why are you playing the martyr? Just kneel and say you're sorry! Dad will forgive you!" Richard scoffed coldly. "Your mom is a fancy college graduate and an elite designer. I'm just an uncultured new-money brute. I'm not worthy of her apologies." The loan shark picked up a heavy whiskey bottle, making a move toward Tyler's knees. Every single one of them was putting on a theatrical performance for me. My son. My own flesh and blood. He degraded his own mother just to play daddy's little rich boy. Where was the boy who used to bring me warm water to soak my tired feet, who massaged my stiff shoulders, who smiled and promised to buy me the world once he made it big?Richard and I had once loved each other. I got pregnant with Tyler out of wedlock. My morning sickness was unbearable back then. Richard canceled his business trips, even losing several massive contracts just to stay by my side and care for me. God, we were dirt poor then. I had cut ties with my family, and we scraped together every single penny just to afford the hospital delivery fees. To make sure I had enough nutrients, Richard worked three jobs a day. Then he cheated, and we divorced. Once I made up my mind, I never looked back. I walked away and raised our baby alone. Being a single mother was an uphill battle. I fought tooth and nail to raise him. But between my medical bills and his Ivy League dreams, I simply couldn't afford his elite tuition. That was when Richard reappeared in our lives. I knew he had struck gold, and I knew he was dangling his wealth just to force me into crawling back. In the end, even Tyler turned against me. Simply because I didn't have millions, he tore me down, calling me worthless every time we argued. Once, I tried to have a heart-to-heart with Tyler and invited him out to dinner. But one phone call from Richard, and Tyler kicked me out of his car in the pouring rain. The thunderstorm soaked through my clothes, but the frost in my heart was far colder. All those years of nurturing and unconditional love paled in comparison to a single stack of Richard's hundred-dollar bills. When I stumbled home drenched, Tyler merely glanced at me and tossed out a cold excuse: "Mom, I haven't seen Dad in years. You and I can have dinner whenever. You're not going to be petty about it, right?" "Of course not." I knew Tyler was under immense pressure regarding his future. I lacked the resources to fund his lavish ambitions; if Richard could, I wouldn't stand in his way. Besides, Richard was his biological father. I had no right to sever their bond. Perhaps because I yielded, a sliver of filial affection rekindled in Tyler. For a while, he became obedient and sweet again. Then came Mother’s Day. He claimed he had a huge surprise for me. Who could have guessed it was a five-million-dollar phantom debt? I never forgot the way Tyler knelt before me, sobbing with remorse. The memory mirrored the grotesque scene unfolding before my eyes right now. "Mom, I'm begging you! Just beg Dad! He has the power to save us! He'll get us out of this!" "You're getting old. Manual labor doesn't pay anything anymore. Why can't the three of us just live together in luxury?" My life was never meant to be this wretched. Father and son had pushed me into this hell step by step, only to play the saviors and force my submission. I snapped. "Tyler Sterling, he’s your father! It's his job to pay your debts! Don't you dare come pushing me around!" I shoved him aside and bolted out the door. Tears streamed down my face the entire walk home. For eighteen years, I had bled myself dry to raise Tyler. The tired woman in the mirror had been hollowed out by time, her hands scarred and calloused. To save money, I lived in a dilapidated apartment—freezing in the winter, sweltering in the summer. Frostbite cracked my skin during the cold months, and heat rashes plagued my body in July. Tyler always used his college workload as an excuse, rarely visiting home all year. Thinking back now, he wasn't busy at all. Why would the young heir of Sterling Enterprises deign to step foot in a slum like this? How utterly laughable. A neighbor saw me and beamed. "Hey Evelyn! Tyler isn't back yet? You raised such a successful young man! I saw him down at the financial district tower the other day—looking sharp in an Armani suit, surrounded by bodyguards!" I offered her a bitter smile and unlocked my door. Everyone in the city knew Tyler was a rising executive backed by the Sterling empire. I was the only fool kept in the dark. I looked around the barren apartment and began packing. But really, what did I even have to pack? Just then, the front door swung open. Tyler walked in, pinching his nose as if the air was toxic. "Mom, what the hell is this? Where are you going?" "You're not actually going to watch your own son die, are you? If you didn't have the guts to support me, why did you fight for custody back then?" "I'm your son! Are you trying to abandon me? Are you running away like a coward?" I sat on the worn-out sofa, meeting his glare with icy detachment. "Mr. Sterling, how much longer are you going to keep acting in front of your own mother?" "Mom... you..." "You know?"