Chapter 49: A suffering mother.

Inside a dim, stale, and slightly suffocating bedroom lay a man, sprawled across a creaking bed, his heavy body half buried beneath a thick mattress and a tangled blanket around his legs that smelled faintly of sweat and… bodily fluids.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, allowing only thin strands of sunlight to slip into the room through the narrow gaps.

Empty snack packets were scattered near the desk—crumpled chip bags, torn chocolate wrappers, a greasy paper box that once held fried food, along with a half-finished energy drink set aside.

The room looked like it had rarely been cleaned. Clothes were tossed carelessly over a chair, and the air inside felt heavy.

The man was asleep.

Snoring loudly.

“Arthur.”

A soft, gentle voice came from beyond the door. The voice carried a faint tone of warmth.

There was no response.

The man did not stir, didn’t even move from his bed, unfazed by the voice calling his name.

The snoring continued.

“Arthur?!”

The voice came again, this time louder.

Still nothing.

“Arthur, wake up?! Breakfast is ready?!”

His eyelids twitched faintly in irritation.

His brows furrowed, and his snoring broke with a disgruntled grunt.

“Tch.”

He rolled over to his side, pulling the blanket over his head, trying to block out the sound entirely.

“Shut up.” He muttered, his voice still hoarse and dry from sleep.

A few seconds passed in silence.

Just as sleep was about to drag him back again—

“Arthur?!”

His face twisted in pure annoyance.

“Ugh—damn it!”

He threw the blanket aside in frustration and forced himself to sit upright. He scratched his stomach absentmindedly, his fingers dragging across the tight fabric of his shirt.

“So annoying,” he grumbled under his breath, his voice heavy and sluggish.

His eyes were half-lidded, a bit red from lack of sleep, and he had to try very hard to keep them open.

“Why do I even need to wake up early?”

He ran a hand through his messy dark-brown hair, making it look even worse than before.

‘I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.’

He thought to himself.

But he did not truly regret it. Not really.

He had been playing games until nearly three in the morning—yelling at his teammates through his headset, ragebaiting, and arguing in the chat as he lost track of time in the real world,

Dragging his feet lazily across the floor, Arthur walked toward the bathroom with slow, reluctant steps, as his mind went through a silent battle, fighting over the desire to collapse onto his bed again.

Before leaving the room, his eyes shifted toward the desk, onto the PC screen.

‘The console broke.’

He sighed deeply.

At midnight, the ground had trembled beneath him. The sudden tremor had sent a jolt through his body, causing him to panic.

In his confusion and fear, he had tossed the console aside…or more like thrown it down—straight onto the floor, breaking it.

“Shitty luck.” He muttered bitterly.

Inside the bathroom, Arthur stood in front of the mirror and stared at himself.

Before him stood the reflection of a man who stood 176 cm tall.

His face was soft and round, his cheeks full and slightly sagging. Acne dotted his skin, with stubborn red marks that refused to fade.

There were some crumbs of the chips and wafers stuck near the corner of his lips, which he had eaten yesterday.

His dark-brown hair was messy and unkempt, and his dull brown eyes carried the exhaustion of sleepless nights.

His T-shirt stretched tightly over his chest and stomach, the fabric straining slightly.

In short—

He was fat.

Yet instead of disgust, instead of contempt at himself, he smirked.

“If I worked out, I’d be way better than most guys.”

The confidence in his tone was unsettling and mostly misplaced.

It wasn’t ‘I would start working out,’ but ‘If I worked out.’

He splashed cold water on his face, brushing his teeth lazily and without care. He showered quickly, cleaning his body like he had some important work to do.

He didn’t.

He was simply too lazy to bathe properly.

After that, he wore some relatively new clothes and stepped into the dining room.

The table was small but neatly arranged.

A woman sat there, waiting for him.

She appeared to be in her late thirties, with black hair tied into a bun and soft hazel eyes.

She was about 165 cm tall.

Though beautiful, faint wrinkles framed her eyes, and dark circles rested beneath them—not just from age, but from exhaustion.

She had a slightly curvy figure, along with her big, ample breasts that were hidden under her loose, modest clothes.

She was his mother—Catherine Brown.

Arthur sat down on his chair.

“Good morning.” She said gently, offering him a warm smile.

Arthur didn’t return the smile.

His eyes fell to the food laid out before him, and his expression immediately soured.

“Again this shit?” he snapped, irritation slipping into his tone.

He was displeased.

“Why can’t we ever have anything better for breakfast?”

Bread and eggs. The same thing he’d eaten for two days straight.

He wanted something else. Something good. Something tastier.

Catherine’s smile faltered for a moment.

“Art,” she said, her tone firm but calm.

“You shouldn’t disrespect the food. It’s healthy.”

She didn’t tell him the real reason, that their budget was tight.

Too tight.

“Come on, eat it. I’ll try to make something else tomorrow for breakfast.”

Arthur sighed loudly but still ate, muttering complaints between every bite.

“Can’t we at least have bacon?”

“This is so bland.”

“I’m fucking tired of this shit.”

Catherine listened quietly while eating her own portion, which was way smaller than his, but didn’t say anything else, since she knew arguing would only make things worse.

So, she just stayed silent, letting him vent.

When Arthur finished, Catherine took the plates and moved toward the sink to wash the dishes.

Arthur was about to head back to his room when he suddenly remembered something.

He stopped and turned around.

“Hey, I need some money.”

“Huh?”

Catherine paused.

“Why?” she asked softly, frowning faintly.

“The console broke, so I’m going to the repair shop to get it fixed.” He said casually.

Her hands stilled. Her expression slightly cracked for just a moment.

“…Can it wait?” She asked gently, her voice tinged with hesitation.

“We’re really tight on the budg—”

“But I need it fixed today.” Arthur interrupted sharply.

“I promised my friends we’d play the new game.”

He narrowed his eyes, annoyed by her denial.

He couldn’t miss the game at any cost. He had made a bet with his friends that he was going to win this time, and he couldn’t let it go over something so trivial.

She conflicted on her choice, but still tried to stay firm.

“We can’t really afford—”

“Why are you always like this?!” he snapped, cutting her off again.

“It’s not even that much.”

His brows furrowed as though she were the one being unreasonable.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and the exhaustion in her eyes deepened.

After a long silence, she went to the cupboard, pulled an envelope from the drawer, and reluctantly handed him the money.

Arthur snatched it without even looking at her.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered dismissively, already turning away.

There was no gratitude in his tone, no acknowledgement in his voice.

“Be careful,” she said softly.

But he didn’t reply.

He just walked out, slamming the door with a loud bang.

He went without saying goodbye.

The house fell silent.

Catherine stood there for a long moment after the door had closed.

For a long moment, she didn’t move, just stared at the door.

Her expression turned downcast as she finally sat on one of the chairs.

“Cough… cough!”

A rough, dry and hoarse sound tore out of her throat, forcing her instinctively to bend forward slightly as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand.𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Her chest burned.

She instantly filled a glass of warm water and slowly drank it, feeling the harsh scraping in her throat ease a little.

She thought about taking cough medicine, but after checking the first aid box, where she kept most of the important medicines, she remembered… she didn’t have any—and she didn’t want to waste her money buying it.

‘When did I go wrong…?’ She quietly wondered to herself.

The thought came to her mind quite often.

She was 38 years old. A single mother.

Not just a single mother—even her relationship status was single.

She hadn’t yet married, even though she had already reached her middle age.

And Arthur?

He wasn’t even her biological son.

She had adopted him in her early twenties, under circumstances she never spoke of.

No one knew, not even Arthur—well, he didn’t even know he was adopted.

Having a child had changed her life entirely—both beautifully and painfully.

Her parents had begged her not to keep the child. They had warned her repeatedly.

“Please, dear, don’t. Why are you ruining your life like this?” her mother had sobbed as she said that.

“Daughter, if you want to keep that kid with you, then just remember. Don’t ever show your face to us again,” her father had sternly said, his voice filled with anger.

She hadn’t listened, and maybe it was because she was in her rebellious age, since she had even argued with them, fought with them for Arthur, her son.

She chose him over them.

She remembered signing the adoption papers despite not even having a stable job for herself at that time.

She knew life wouldn’t be easy from them from that point on.

But she had been determined.

All of it… because she adored her child.

She raised him.

Loved him.

She left her parents despite their countless protests.

‘I really shouldn’t have ended it like that,’ she thought.

Every day, she hoped that she maybe shouldn’t have done that to her parents, maybe she shouldn’t have left just like that.

She never regretted choosing him over them.

But—

She always regretted the way she had parted from her parents.

But there was nothing she could do now.

They were already dead, and she found out about it when it was already too late.

She even dropped out of college, because that wouldn’t earn her much money and would only take it away.

She worked multiple part-time jobs just to survive.

Back then, she had been beautiful in her college days, and she was a popular girl too.

But that was all in the past.

Years of exhaustion had worn her down, slowly stripping away her beauty.

The coughing never stopped. It had become constant, almost normal.

She didn’t even visit the doctor, thinking that it was a waste of money, even though she gave money whenever her son asked for it.

When Arthur was younger, he had been a good child.

Naughty, yes—but obedient.

But during his school days, he made some friends.

Some very bad friends.

And everything changed after that.

He changed.

His personality changed.

His behaviour changed.

And not in a good way.

At first, she didn’t notice it.

It was subtle, like staying out a little longer, not doing his homework.

But then the changes intensified.

He started playing games until late at night.

Sometimes, cursing at her, shouting at her.

Even his way of talking to her changed.

Before, he used to call her Mom, but now? Just pronouns like ‘Hey’.

Late nights. Endless games. No studying. No listening.

‘Maybe it was all my fault… I should have done something earlier.’

Maybe she had grown too soft, too forgiving.

Maybe she should’ve been stricter.

Now, it was already too late.

Even if she tried, he wouldn’t listen.

Arthur was currently twenty-five.

He had dropped out of college, called it a waste of time, and remained unemployed.

He had tried working briefly, but quit after a few days, complaining about the workload.

So right now, he just played games, watched anime, and did some other things she didn’t really want to think about.

So she continued working for him, trying to keep up with his needs.

“Cough!…cough..! COUGH!!”

The coughing returned, harsher this time.

She pressed a hand to her chest.

‘Will he change… after I’m gone?’

The thought made her smile bitterly.

**********

(Dear readers, do read the author’s—no, my, Noah’s note at the end.)

My novel as been upgraded!! The contract was accepted, YAYY!!!

The chapters are going to be made premium after some time.

Thank you for reading, especially to those who had been reading from the previous version.