Teletubbies Name

On the day of my son's one-month celebration, my notoriously stingy sister-in-law surprised me with a branded baby bottle. But instead of accepting it, I turned away and gave it to the neighbor's cruel son who had XYY syndrome. In my previous life, I had accepted that bottle with genuine gratitude, using it day and night to feed my son. I never imagined that a month later, in the dead of night, my son would suddenly suffer a heart attack and die in my arms. Strangely enough, the very next day after my son passed, my sister-in-law's sickly child—who had been confined to the neonatal intensive care unit since birth—was miraculously discharged in perfect health. Losing my son shattered me completely. I spent my days drowning in tears. My husband called me a cursed woman, claimed I brought nothing but disaster, and demanded a divorce. Not only that, but he insisted I leave with nothing. When I refused, he and my sister-in-law joined forces and accidentally beat me to death. It wasn't until after I died that I learned the truth. The woman I had thought was my husband's younger sister wasn't his blood relative at all. She had been adopted by his mother years ago to be raised as his future wife. Together, they had plotted to destroy me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister-in-law handed me that baby bottle.

My boyfriend's assistant, who also came from the same university as him but a lower grade, has an incredibly similar name to mine. While mine is Marissa Parker, hers is Melissa Barker. At the party our colleagues are throwing to celebrate the end of my unmarried life with my boyfriend, Liam Yarrow, Melissa once again mixes up our names. Everyone is cheering and joking around as they unfurl the banner they had prepared, and one person reads the wording out loud. "Congratulations to Liam Yarrow and Melissa Barker! May you two be happy and blissful forever!" In an instant, the originally noisy room falls silent. Melissa's timid voice then rings out. "Sorry, Marissa. I accidentally made a mistake again." Instead of answering, I turn to look at Liam. Liam's brow doesn't even wrinkle in the slightest as he subconsciously assures her, "It's just a minor matter. She won't mind." Following that, he gets up, walks to Melissa, and stops in front of her, placing me opposite him. With this action, his figure completely blocks her from my sight, and like many times before, he shoots me a warning look. "Marissa, it's just a banner. Mel didn't mean to mess it up. At the end of the day, everyone already knows that you and I are the stars tonight, so don't dwell on this, okay?" He calls me by my full first name, while Melissa gets an affectionate nickname. Can his feelings be any more obvious? I slowly release my grip on the balloon I was holding. "Alright, I won't." I will never dwell on anything to do with him again.

Before we went to meet my boyfriend's parents, he swore to me and said, "Don't worry, my mom is easy to get along with. She's just a little naive." I believed him and showed up with gifts. The moment the door opened, I froze in the entryway. My future mother-in-law was wearing a pale pink baby onesie! My eyes nearly popped out, but my boyfriend simply laughed. "It's just my mom's hobby. Don't let it bother you too much." I took a deep breath and offered her my gifts. "Hello, ma'am. It's so nice to meet you. These are just some gifts..." But before I could finish, my boyfriend's mother's eyes suddenly turned red, and she began to whimper. "Why are you calling me ma'am? I'm just a baby!"

As I took my newborn daughter from the nurse, I heard the voice of the baby in the next bed echoing in my head. “Don’t take her, Mommy. I’m your real baby!” The doctor and nurses did not seem to hear a thing. I thought I was hallucinating due to my fatigue, so I continued nursing my baby girl. “How dare you cry, you burdensome wretch? I’ll pinch you if you keep crying!” The baby’s grandmother picked him up and walked outside, but the voice came again, crying, “The mean old lady is taking me away. Mommy, look over here quickly! Look at the birthmark on my left ear!” I froze. My first child, who had died in an accident, had a birthmark on his left ear.

“It’s all right, Don Moretti. Go take care of your other child.” My six-year-old son raised one small hand and waved goodbye to his father. Matteo froze. For twenty-eight days, I had been teaching Luca to call him Don Moretti instead of Papa. It started the night Luca was burning with fever. Bianca Bellini sent word that her son was crying for Matteo, and my husband left our sick child without looking back. I held Luca against my chest and whispered, “Say goodnight to Don Moretti.” A week later, Matteo promised to attend Luca’s school presentation. Bianca sent for him again. Tommy had no father to sit beside him, she said. The other boys would laugh. Matteo went. I placed a sheet of paper in front of Luca and handed him a pen. “Write to your teacher,” I said. “Tell her Don Moretti will not be coming.” Every time Luca used the title, he hesitated. Sometimes the words took so long to leave his mouth that I nearly told him he could still call Matteo Papa. Then came the Moretti succession dinner. Matteo had promised to present Luca before every capo and elder, name him as his chosen heir, and give him a permanent seat at the Moretti table. Luca counted the days for two weeks. But outside the estate, Bianca’s driver stopped us with another message. Tommy was crying because the other children said he had no father. Pity crossed Matteo’s face. Before he could explain, Luca waved goodbye. “It’s all right, Don Moretti. Go take care of your other child.” Then he slipped his hand into mine. “Mom and I don’t need a seat at the Moretti table anymore.”

When I got pregnant, I was about to inform my parents about the good news. Suddenly, the baby in my belly cried for help. “Mom, please don’t! Grandpa and Grandma favor boys over girls. If they know that I’m a girl, they will definitely poison you to abort me!” I turned off my phone with doubts, and I was worried that the news of my pregnancy would be leaked. But a fire broke out at my house, and I missed 99 calls from my parents. I was grieved and heartbroken, and my husband went through the darkest time with me. When I was getting back on my feet, the baby’s voice echoed again. “Mom, you’re so pitiful. Dad is dating his mistress in the company, and all he feels for you is just guiltiness.” I instantly felt flustered. Without thinking more, I just rushed inside my husband’s company to catch the cheaters. Unexpectedly, I just blew up a company contract worth over a hundred million. My husband was very disappointed in me. He took a divorce paper and forced me to sign. I desperately tried to keep him, but I heard the baby’s voice again. “Dad hates women who wouldn’t let go. Mom, if you let go of him in time and leave with nothing, Dad will come and cry to beg you to go back some time later!” In the end, I chose to listen to my baby. But I was broke and homeless, and I just slept on the streets at night. My husband, Liam Grant, immediately married a girl who looked like me. At their wedding, he blamed me for leaving him so heartlessly. I cried and wanted to go back to Liam, but a truck that ran a red light ran over me and crushed me into nothing. In the end, I died with my eyes open. Before I died, I vaguely heard the baby’s prideful laugh. When I opened my eyes again, I went back to the day when I found out my pregnancy.