Grandma's Golden Boy

After divorcing my cheating husband, I took my son and moved back to my mother's house. The moment we returned, my mother began to dote on my son without restraint. She would even gossip to the neighbors, saying, "Can you believe that deadweight actually gave birth to a son? Why does she get to? A disgrace who got kicked out by her husband has no right to be a boy's mother!" I knew my son could not grow up in an environment like that, so I made a firm decision to move out and raise him on my own. Years later, he graduated from college and found a job—nothing high-paying, but stable. Given the state of things, I was genuinely happy for him. He suggested going back to have a meal with his grandmother to celebrate. I never expected the two of them to join hands and poison me. As my consciousness faded, I heard their conversation. "I told you. She can't stand seeing you do well. She's elated after hearing you only make a few thousand a month!" "It's fine, Grandma. A feminazi like my mom had it coming. I've always known who's truly been good to me. From now on, I'll only take care of you." My heart turned cold. I had pushed him to study, supported him through college, and taught him to treat others with equality and respect. And this was how he repaid me. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment I had just returned to my mother's house with my son. 'If you're so determined to raise him your way, then fine. You can have him all to yourself. Let's see what kind of man a pick-me grandmother like you will raise.' Chapter 1 A Boy Raised Without Limits "Boys need to eat more meat if they want to grow strong." As she spoke, my mother dropped an entire drumstick into Ryder Cavallaro's plate, watching him eat until his mouth was slick with grease, the wrinkles on her face blooming with satisfaction. The scene of being poisoned in my previous life was still vivid in my mind. Staring at the table full of rich dishes, I found myself unable to pick up my cutlery. Ryder noticed I had not touched my food and paused, sneaking glances at me, worried that I would be upset like before when he only ate meat. I pretended not to notice and simply sighed. "The weather's crazy hot, Mom. I don't really have an appetite." My mother immediately shot me a disapproving look. "Be grateful for Ryder! If he hadn't come back with you, you think you'd get a feast? Deadweights don't deserve anything nice in life!" At that, she did a one-eighty and dotingly piled more meat onto Ryder's plate. I just smiled and said nothing. I had long since gotten used to her blatant favoritism toward boys in my previous life. Seeing that I did not intervene, Ryder buried his head in his plate and continued eating. In this life, I had no intention of managing him anymore. At first, he still held onto a bit of restraint. But after testing the waters a few times, doing things I used to forbid, and realizing I no longer got angry, he quickly let himself go. Without my discipline, and with my mother's indulgence, the change was immediate. In just two months, the once good-looking Ryder had been fed into a pudgy boy. Every meal was packed with rich meat dishes, and he wouldn't touch a single vegetable. But the change in his personality was even worse. Ryder used to be quiet but polite, always greeting the neighbors when he saw them. Now, he had become the neighborhood's little menace. That afternoon, I had just returned home after wrapping up a project when I saw Lauren dragging her daughter over in a fury. A crowd of curious neighbors trailed behind them, completely blocking the entrance to my house. "Joanne King! Get out here and see what your precious grandson has done!" Lauren shouted, her face flushed with anger. Her daughter, Mia, hid behind her, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. Her little dress was wrinkled and disheveled. Hearing the commotion, my mother came out. The moment she saw the scene, she immediately pulled Ryder behind her and snapped with her hands on her hips, "What are you yelling for? You're about to shake my door off its hinges!" Lauren pointed at Ryder, her hand trembling from anger. "Ask your precious grandson what he did! He lifted Mia's skirt in public! And he even called her a deadweight!" Instead of showing any guilt, my mother let out a cold laugh. "What did my grandson say that was wrong? Girls are deadweights, are they not?" As she spoke, she sized Mia up, making the girl shrink further behind Lauren. Then she withdrew her gaze and sneered. "And don't get me started on your slut of a daughter. Has she no shame, making a fuss about being seen? I can't imagine any decent guy would want a slut like her!" The words sent a chill through the crowd, and several neighbors gasped. Lauren's face turned red with fury, and she lunged at my mother. The two of them began to fight. Some people tried to break them apart; others called the cops—it was chaos. I simply stood in the corner, watching it all in silence. In the end, the matter escalated to the police station. The officers sternly criticized my mother and made her apologize to Lauren and Mia. She did not dare argue with the police. But the moment we stepped out of the station, she was still indignant, going on about how Ryder had done nothing wrong. Chapter 2 Happiness Built on Sand From that day on, no parent in the neighborhood was willing to let their child play with Ryder anymore. My mother's explanation was simple—they were just jealous that we had a boy in our family. I nodded along in agreement. Before long, Ryder started elementary school. At the end of his first week, he came home beaming and told my mother he had been chosen as the math class representative. Ryder had always been talented in math. In my previous life, I had noticed it early and nurtured it carefully. Later, he scored 790 on the SAT math section and stood out among countless competitors. But my mother, who had never really cared about my education when I was young, simply frowned and asked, "What's a class representative?" Ryder blinked and answered earnestly, "It means I help the teacher collect homework and manage the class!" My mother's temper instantly flared. "What kind of nonsense is that? That's bullying!" The very next day, she stormed straight to the school. "Teacher! My grandson is here to study, not to serve people!" she shouted the moment she stepped into the office, her voice so loud the windows seemed to rattle. The math teacher, a young woman fresh out of college, was startled and hurriedly tried to explain, "Ma'am, being a class representative helps build a child's sense of responsibility—" "Responsibility? You're clearly trying to wear my grandson out!" My mother slammed her hand on the desk. "Collecting homework every day? What if he gets exhausted? His hands are meant for writing, not doing this kind of labor! I bet you're picking on us because we're a widow and child!" The teacher's face flushed, then paled, and she looked at me helplessly. I stepped forward with a polite, helpless smile. "I'm sorry, but just go along with my mother. She calls the shots." With that, I pushed all responsibility away. My mother snorted in satisfaction and dragged me out. From then on, the teacher never gave Ryder any more "opportunities to build character." And my mother was quite pleased with herself. "See? You've got to show them some attitude, or they'll think we're just pushovers!" I smiled and echoed her words, though Ryder, standing by the wall, looked a little uneasy. Freed from the burden of raising a child, I poured all the energy I had suppressed in my previous life into my career. With the money I received from the divorce, I opened a small fashion design studio. In my previous life, I had given up this dream to take care of Ryder. Now, I stayed up late sketching designs, ran through every fabric market I could find, and even sat through business dinners just to secure orders. Whenever my mother saw this, she only mocked me. "A woman should stay at home. Running around outside like this… No wonder your husband didn't want you." I never argued, though, for within just a few years, my studio grew from an unnoticed workshop into a recognized original brand in the industry. Meanwhile, as my career flourished, Ryder smoothly advanced into middle school. Spoiled by my mother, he had become completely unruly—doing homework only when he felt like it, relying on guesswork for exams. His greatest joy each day was following my mother to the market, listening to her boast about how brilliant he was. It was the kind of carefree happiness that came from ignorance—simple, pure, and foolish. Sometimes, when he saw me leaving early and returning late, there was a faint trace of contempt in his eyes. That, too, was something my mother had ingrained into him. "Your mom's born to work herself to the bone. You, however, are destined to live an easy life." I never shattered that beautiful illusion, not until the day the high school entrance exam results came out. His so-called friends, who had once gathered around him, listening to his bragging, all received their acceptance letters to high school. They stood together, talking about their future schools and their dreams of college, while he, for the first time, was left far behind by people his own age. At 15, he was beginning to form a sense of self. Only then did he realize that although he had indeed been happy all this time, beneath that happiness was a vast and empty nothing. Chapter 3 The First Time He Chose Me That night, he locked himself in his room and did not come out for dinner. My mother knocked on the door outside repeatedly, but he did not respond, not even when she called him her "precious darling." Late that night, there was a knock on my door. When I answered it, Ryder stood there, his eyes red. For a moment, I hesitated. It had been a long time since I had been alone with him like this. "Mom…" he called softly, then fell silent for a long while. "They're all going to school… What am I supposed to do? I can't even continue studying anymore…" As he spoke, tears spilled from his eyes, and he looked at me helplessly. Seeing him like that, lost and vulnerable, my heart still ached. No matter what, he was my son. I was not completely heartless. If he was willing to wake up and change, it would not hurt to give him a hand. Over the years, I had built up some connections through my work. I used them to secure him a place at one of the best vocational schools in the area, enrolling him in the most in-demand program: automotive repair. The day he received the admission letter, it was as if he had grown up overnight. He stopped following my mother everywhere. Instead, he shut himself in his room and began previewing his textbooks. And for the first time, he cleaned his room without being asked to, and he even started trying to eat vegetables. I thought the farce would finally come to a not-so-bad ending, but I had still underestimated my mother. The moment she found out I had enrolled Ryder in a vocational school, she stormed into my room in a rage and flung the admission letter straight at my face. "Rebecca King! What are you trying to do?" she shouted, pointing at me, her whole body trembling with fury. "How dare you send my grandson to learn something as lowly as fixing cars? That's work for the lower class! I raised him with such care, and now you want him to serve other people?" I looked at her flatly, not even bothering to defend myself. "Grandma!" Ryder's voice came from the doorway. He rushed in and stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body—for the first time in 15 years. "Don't yell at Mom! I chose this myself! Even college graduates can't find jobs now. What's wrong with learning a skill? She's doing this for my own good!" My mother froze. She stared at the grandson she had raised with her own hands in complete disbelief. The boy who had always obeyed her without question was now standing against her—for me, the very person she had always despised. Her face flushed a deep, ugly red, and a vicious light flickered in her cloudy eyes. She pointed at me, her finger trembling with rage. "Right… Right. I get it now!" She suddenly turned and rushed into my bedroom like a madwoman, grabbing my clothes and luggage and throwing them out the door one by one. "It's all your fault! You've ruined my grandson, you cursed bitch! I knew you were up to no good! Get out! Get out of my house right now!" "Grandma!" Ryder panicked and reached out to stop her.