Chapter 43 the Sad Memories of a Young, Rich Heir

Now he had a shelf of crayons back home.

He locked and hid it away every time he bought more crayons, as if locking up his love and yearning for his father.

...

Just like that, Jarrod's memories of his father quietly accumulated in his heart.

Not bitter, just...aching.

The quiet and obedient way Jarrod explained himself instantly made Shirley feel guilty.

"Oh, I see now." Shirley tightly hugged him. "I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have suspected you, you're my son. Of course you wouldn't lie to me, Mom is sorry, okay?"

She patted his hair gently.

A warm current flowed into Jarrod's heart.

He blinked rapidly, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes.

Grandpa had said that boys could not cry.

"Mom..." Jarrod's voice was hoarse. He was afraid he would lose his composure, so he dove his head into Shirley's arms before he cried.