Chapter 67 Suck It up
"Mia," George implored, his voice heavy with concern, "Can you promise me something? Please, don't inform mother about this. Her health is frail, she won't be able to bear such distressing news."
"You're suggesting that the entire Mitchell clan is privy to this information, with the exception of Mother?" Mia queried, her tone laced with disbelief.
George nodded in affirmation, "Yes, let's withhold the truth from her for the time being. I'll sort out this situation as promptly as I can."
"Sort it out?" Mia echoed, her laughter bitter, "You can barely manage your own affairs without causing havoc, and now you intend to sort out your son's divorce and infidelity?"
Her derisive tone stung George, but he remained resolute, a determined glint in his eyes, "It's precisely because of my own blunders that I can't allow my son and his wife to follow the same path. Why can't you believe that I've changed?"
"Would you trust a murderer who claims to have reformed, begging the judge to spare them the death penalty?" Mia retorted, her words sharp as a knife.
"Am I being equated to a murderer now?" George's frustration was palpable, his voice escalating, "Even convicts are granted parole. Not every crime warrants capital punishment, not every error is irredeemable!"
Mia fixed him with a cold stare, her eyes devoid of any emotion, "You're correct, you haven't taken a life, and not every mistake is unforgivable. However, remember, not every mistake can be forgiven either—the power to forgive rests with the victim. I'm not a judge. I don't have to be impartial, I can be prejudiced, and I can act on my own emotions. Chairman Mitchell, don't feel too wronged, or perhaps we should consider divorce as well."
The mere mention of "divorce" felt like a brutal blow to George's heart.
"What, not contemplating divorce?" Mia advanced, her hand reaching out to adjust his tie in a seemingly affectionate gesture, but her voice dripped with sarcasm, "Then endure it. Let's see who crumbles first."
George was rendered speechless.
Had she made her decision? Was there truly no hope for reconciliation?
Mia added, "Which room is Alex in? If you won't tell me, I'll ask the nurse."
George's fists clenched tightly, his mind reeling as if struck by lightning. Overwhelmed and disoriented, he muttered, "Follow me."
Upon entering the hospital room, they found Alexander's bed empty.
Mia swiveled her head, her questioning gaze landing on George, "Where is he?"
"He was just here," George stammered.
Before he could finish, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Alexander.
"Mom, you're here," he greeted.
Mia scrutinized Alexander, then turned her icy gaze back to George, "Is this the 'he's severely injured and bedridden' scenario you painted?"
George's face reddened with embarrassment. He hadn't anticipated his wife witnessing such a scene and shot a reproachful look at Alexander, blaming him for his ill-timed bathroom break.
Alexander felt cornered. What was he supposed to do, abstain from using the restroom?
"It seems you're fine. Your father made it sound like a dire situation."
"Mom," Alexander approached, "Last night was indeed dangerous. I feared I might never see you again."
His injuries were minor, but that was merely a stroke of luck.
"I'm relieved you're okay," Mia stepped forward to support his arm, "Get back to bed and rest. There's no one here to care for you, and even though it's not severe, you need to be cautious."
After all, he was her son. She might have grievances with George, but her maternal instincts towards Alexander remained unscathed.
