Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My mom’s best friend had a fight with her husband.
My mother stepped in to “make peace,” and before long she was video calling the man every single day.
Then one day the wife showed up at our door, screaming that my mother was trying to steal someone else’s husband.
Mom stayed as calm as ever. No shouting, no panic. Just that distant, fragile look on her face as she said, “How am I supposed to defend myself? Anything I say will sound wrong.”
Her friend lunged at her.
In the chaos, I was shoved down the stairs and died on the spot.
My mother didn’t shed a single tear.
She only sighed and said, “This child was never meant to have much luck in life.”
Thank God, though. Heaven took pity on me and gave me one more chance.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in my bedroom completely unharmed.
I stared at the school uniform on my body, my mind blank.
Had I really gone back to high school?
Before I could process it, shouting erupted from the living room.
I ran out just in time to see my father, David Bennett, raining punches down on my mother.
He had Evelyn pinned beneath him. She couldn’t fight back at all. All she could do was throw her arms over her face.
It didn’t help.
His fists kept coming down on her like hail.
In my previous life, I had seen him beat her more times than I could count. Every time, I hated her weakness and pitied her for it.
Back then, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d grabbed a chair and rushed forward, smashing it across my father’s back.
He hadn’t seen it coming and crashed to the floor.
I had pointed at him and screamed, “If you’ve got so much energy, go pick a fight with someone outside!”
“All you know how to do is hit your wife. What kind of man does that make you?”
My father’s face had darkened. He’d charged at me, ready to hit me too—
But my mother had moved first.
Smack.
The slap had landed so hard my ears rang.
“Parents are never wrong,” she had snapped at me. “No matter what, he’s still your father!”
“How did I raise such an ungrateful child? No respect, no sense of traditional family morality!”
I had been so furious I couldn’t even speak.
I had been trying to protect her, and she had turned around and blamed me for it.
To this day, I still can’t understand how her mind works.
After that, my father had nearly stopped spending any money on me at all. And after he divorced my mother, he refused to pay a cent in child support.
So now, watching him beat her again, I didn’t dare rush in.
I had no interest in getting slapped by her a second time.
By the time my father finally stopped, my mother was covered in bruises.
I still couldn’t completely ignore it. I stepped forward and helped her up.
Dad yanked the front door open, ready to leave, only to find half the neighbors gathered outside, drawn by the noise.
The second they saw my mother’s condition, they all started talking over each other.
“David, this has gone too far. Couples fight, sure, but you can’t hit her.”
“Exactly. What kind of man beats a woman?”
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
“Evelyn’s always been so mild-mannered. How could you do this to her?”
“If you lay a hand on your wife again, we’re calling the police,” added Mrs. Lewis from down the hall.
My mother had been crying quietly until then, head lowered, looking as pitiful as possible.
But the moment she heard the words calling the police, she looked up at Mrs. Lewis.
“And what gives you the right to call the police?”
“This is a private family matter. Why are you sticking your nose into it?”
Mrs. Lewis stared at her, dumbfounded.
After a long pause, she finally choked out, “Serves you right. It really does.”
Then she turned and left.
Once the crowd lost interest and began to disperse, my mother smoothed back her hair, picked up her grocery basket, and went out to buy vegetables as if nothing had happened.
In my previous life, that kind of spinelessness would have made me furious.
Now?
I wasn’t angry at all.
After all, she wasn’t the one getting hit this time. I wasn’t.
My mom had always been a good cook.
Tonight, my brother and Natalie had come over for dinner, and Mom had been in the kitchen all afternoon. By the time we sat down, the table was crowded with rich, elaborate dishes.
It should have been a nice family meal.
Instead, Natalie frowned the second she looked at the food.
“Mom, I don’t eat scallions. Why did you put them on every single dish?” She leaned closer, clearly annoyed. “And they’re chopped so fine I can’t even pick them out.”
I looked too.
She was right. Every plate had been dusted with tiny bits of scallion.
The dishes themselves were all things Natalie liked, but the fact that she hated scallions had been said more than once. Mom knew that perfectly well.
Mom apologized at once. “I’m getting old. My memory’s going. I can’t believe I forgot.”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Funny how you never forget that your son won’t eat cilantro.”
Mom’s face stiffened.
Jason kept eating as if the conversation had nothing to do with him. Like the tension between the two women at the table simply didn’t exist.
A second later, Mom turned to me.
I knew exactly what she wanted. She was waiting for me to say something.
In my previous life, I had been her most loyal defender.
Whenever she clashed with Natalie, she would come crying to me, complaining about how wronged she was. And every time, I’d rush off to argue with my sister-in-law on her behalf.
But in the end, once she and Natalie made up, Mom would sigh and say, “Claire just has a terrible temper. She’s always picking fights with you. Don’t take it personally.”
Then, right in front of Natalie, she’d lecture me: “An elder brother’s wife should be respected like a mother. Don’t talk to your sister-in-law that way again.”
She made sure I was the bad guy from every angle.
So this time, I had no intention of being that stupid again—no intention of offending Natalie just to shield my mother.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Especially since Mom only ever added scallions when Natalie came over for dinner.
I thought she was doing it on purpose too.
When Mom saw I wasn’t stepping in, her expression changed immediately. “I can’t cook anyway. If none of you like what I make, then next time you can just eat out.”
I nodded without hesitation. “Sure. It’d be nice to try something different for once.”
Mom clearly hadn’t expected that answer. She shot me a glare.
Natalie instantly pulled out her phone and turned the screen toward me. “This Vietnamese place looks pretty good. I bet you’d love it.”
“Ooh, that does look amazing.”
“Then next time I’m taking you there.”
Just like that, Natalie and I started discussing restaurants, deliberately leaving Mom out of it. Off to the side, she sat there with a dark, furious look on her face.
Natalie had graduated from a top university, and honestly, we had a lot in common to begin with.
In my last life, I’d ruined that by constantly standing up for Mom, and Natalie had grown distant with me because of it. Later, when there were things I genuinely needed advice on, I was too embarrassed to ask.
This time, I wasn’t going to swallow that loss in silence again.
Once the neighbors found out about the abuse, my dad stopped pretending everything was fine.
By the time I was in my senior year of high school, he finally asked my mom for a divorce.
She took it with eerie calm. “I can keep a man in the house, but I can’t keep his heart. I have no objection to a divorce.”
Then she added, “But Claire is taking the college entrance exam this year. You can’t ignore what this will do to her. Let’s wait until she graduates.”
That was exactly what she’d done in my previous life too. She acted like she didn’t care, like she was only thinking of her child, and used me as the reason to keep dragging things out.
All it had done was burn through the last of my dad’s patience—and make him resent me more and more along the way.
By the end of it, the relationship between us had hit rock bottom.
He really was thinking about me.
He stood there with his brows knotted, smoked an entire pack in the apartment, then turned and walked out.
When he stopped bringing up the divorce, Mom visibly relaxed.
I couldn’t understand it. They had spent years fighting, living separately, making each other miserable. Why was she still unwilling to let go? What was the point?
“Mom, I’m going out to buy some pen refills.”
Then I headed downstairs.
Dad hadn’t gone far yet, so I ran after him.
“Dad,” I called, catching up. “I know you and Mom aren’t happy together.”
He looked at me in surprise.