My Ex-husband Threw Us Out During A Storm Because Our Son Was A “defective Product.” 18 Years Later, He Crawled Into My Son’s Hospital Begging For His Life. Who Is The “defective” One Now?

The Wound of the Past

Inside the rising elevator, I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were glassy, not with sadness, but with suppressed rage.

The memories of the past came rushing back. The words “crippled kid” and “dead by now” reopened an old wound that had never healed. The wound from 18 years ago, the wound from that stormy night.

The night he shattered my heart and my son’s. I closed my eyes. The past replayed like a black and white film in my head.

I had to remember it. I had to remember every detail of that pain. It was my primary fuel. It was the reason I was standing here now with the power to destroy him.

Just you wait, Mark. You asked where my son is. You’re going to meet him. And when you do, you’ll wish the earth would swallow you whole.

The elevator carried me upward, but my mind plunged back into the past. 18 years ago, I was 25 years old then. We lived in a small rented apartment on the outskirts of the city.

The place was damp, the paint peeling from the walls, but I tried to make it comfortable for Leo, our son, who was just 5 years old. That night, the rain was pouring down, a torrential downpour.

Lightning flashed, making the window panes rattle. Leo was sitting on the floor, playing with his worn-out wooden toy car.

His small legs looked different. His right leg had not developed properly, forcing him to crawl or walk with great difficulty. The front door slammed open.

Mark was home. He was soaking wet, but it wasn’t the rain that made his face look so terrifying. It was an expression of pure hatred.

He didn’t say hello. He immediately threw his work bag onto a chair. He walked to the dining table where I was preparing warm tea.

“I’m sick of it, Eleanor,” he yelled suddenly.

I jumped in shock. Some of the hot tea spilled on my hand.

“What is it, Mark? Why are you angry the moment you get home?”

“I’m sick of this miserable life. I’m sick of this smelly apartment. And I’m most sick of looking at him.” Mark pointed at Leo.

Leo, startled, hugged his toy tightly. He looked at his father with terrified eyes.

“Daddy,” he whimpered softly.

“Don’t call me Daddy,” Mark barked. “I’m ashamed to have a son like you. Look at that leg. It’s disgusting. All my friends at the office have normal kids. Kids who can run, who can play soccer. Why did I have to get a defective one?”

My heart shattered hearing that. I immediately ran to hug Leo, covering my son’s ears.

“Enough, Mark! Don’t talk like that in front of him. It’s not Leo’s fault. This is a test from God,” I said, crying.

“A test? This is a curse!”

Mark slammed the glass of tea I had prepared. Shards scattered across the floor.

“I can’t take it anymore. My salary is gone. Just paying for his useless therapy. He’s never going to get better, Eleanor. His leg will be twisted forever.”

Mark reached into his wet pants pocket. He pulled out a crumpled brown envelope. He threw it in my face.

“What is this?” I asked, trembling.

“Divorce papers,” he answered coldly. “Sign them. I want us to separate.”

My world collapsed.

“Divorce? But why, Mark? We can talk about this. If it’s about money, I can get a job. I can wash dishes or work in a factory.”

“It’s not just about the money,” Mark cut in. “I’m getting married again.”

My breath caught in my throat. Married again?

“Yes. To Bella. She’s a wealthy widow. She owns the construction supply company I deliver to. She’s beautiful. She’s rich. And most importantly, she can give me a normal child, not a defective product like Leo.”

Defective product. Those words hit me harder than a physical blow. How could a father call his own son a defective product?

“You’re cheating on me,” I whispered.

“Call it what you want. I need a future, Eleanor. And my future isn’t with you or your crippled kid. Bella wants me, but she doesn’t want any baggage from the past. So you both have to leave. Leave now.”

I looked at the window. The thunderstorm was still raging outside.

“Mark, it’s the middle of the night. It’s pouring. Leo isn’t feeling well. Let us stay for just one night. We’ll leave in the morning.”

Mark shook his head without a shred of compassion.

“No. Bella is coming to pick me up soon. She wants to see this place empty of your junk.”

“Mark, please!” I knelt at his feet, throwing away my pride for my son. “Have pity on Leo. He’s your son, Mark. Your own flesh and blood.”

Mark kicked my shoulder, sending me sprawling. Leo cried out loudly when he saw me fall.

“Get him out of here! His crying is hurting my ears.”

I got up with what little strength I had left. I realized it was useless to beg a stone. Mark was no longer my husband. He had become a monster.

I went into the bedroom with tears streaming down my face. I stuffed a few clothes into a large plastic bag. We didn’t own a suitcase.

I took the small amount of savings I had hidden under the mattress. It wasn’t much, maybe enough for food for two days. I picked up Leo.

The boy wrapped his arms tightly around my neck, his body trembling with fear.

“Mommy, is Daddy mad?” Leo whispered. “Is Daddy mad because my leg is bad?”

That innocent question tore my heart apart. I kissed his cheek.

“No, honey. Daddy is just sick. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. You are a wonderful boy. Your leg is a leg from heaven.”

We walked out of the bedroom. Mark was standing at the front door, smoking casually. He looked at us with disgust.

“Is that everything? Don’t leave anything behind. I don’t want to keep any garbage,” he said.

I looked into his eyes one last time.

“You’ll regret this, Mark. So help me God, you will regret this.”

Mark just snorted.

“Regret getting rid of a parasite? Never. Go on. Go die in the street for all I care.”

He pushed us outside and slammed the door. The rain immediately drenched us. The cold pierced through to our bones.

I held Leo inside my jacket, trying to shield him from the water. We stood on the small porch, but Mark opened a window and yelled.

“Don’t shelter there! Get off my property.”

I dragged my feet onto the muddy street. It was dark, cold, and empty. There was only the sound of thunder and Leo’s crying.

We walked without a destination, tears and rainwater mixing on my face. Suddenly, a luxury sedan pulled up in front of the apartment. A woman got out with an umbrella.

It was Bella. She saw me soaked to the bone on the side of the road. She smiled smugly.

“Oh, so this is the wife?” Bella asked Mark, who had come out to greet her. “How pathetic. Like a drowned rat?”

Mark wrapped his arm around Bella’s waist.

“Don’t look, darling. You’ll dirty your eyes. Let’s go inside.”

They went into the warm apartment, leaving us in the middle of the storm.

That night, we finally found shelter in an empty bus stop. Leo had a high fever. His body was burning up.

I held him all night, trying to transfer my body heat to him. In the darkness of that bus shelter, watching the relentless rain, I made a vow. I held Leo’s small hand.

“Listen to me, honey. Today we were humiliated. Today we were thrown away. But I promise you, I swear to God, one day the man who threw us away will be crawling at your feet. I will do anything. I will work until my bones break. You will become a great man. You will become a doctor who can heal people, unlike your father whose soul is sick.”

Leo looked at me with his listless eyes. He nodded weakly.

“Yes, Mommy. Leo wants to be a doctor. Leo wants to heal Leo’s leg so he can take care of Mommy.”

We cried together under the leaking roof of that bus shelter. It was the lowest point of my life, but it was also the turning point.

The pain of that night turned into a fire that never went out. A fire that fueled my spirit for 18 years. And now, that fire was ready to burn the one who lit it.