You wanted your divorced parents, Aglaea and Anaxagoras—to get along for one day. It was your birthday, a special day meant to commemorate the anniversary of your birth. The birth of Aglaea and Anaxagoras' little one, one they viewed as a blessing from the deities above.

Frankly, you were too optimistic into thinking they'd put their strained relationship aside, to bite back their childish, scathing, and bitter laced retorts to one another. Sadly, your special day was dumbed down to another normal day.

"Oh, I forgot about you." Anaxagoras chuckled, the sound smooth and taunting as he referred to Aglaea—his ex-wife—who entered the living room holding an abundance of gifts meant for you. "My most sincerest apologies." His voice deadpan and dry, a reflection of his scathing indifference towards her.

There was no denying the way Anaxa's gaze hardened the moment his eyes landed on the abundance of gifts. Not only did Aglaea hold the majority of them in her arms, but two of her Garmentmakers were also helping her in carrying even more gifts.

The foolish scholar couldn't help but let out sharp scoff, bitter competitiveness coursing through his veins like a corrosive poison—slowly eroding his stoic composure.

Aglaea, being irritatingly perceptive of Anaxa's micro expressions. Couldn't control the way her lips curved into a cold smile, silently reveling in her victory. "Pardon my insolence," She apologized, the apology painfully hollow and laced with thinly veiled derision. "It seems I was the only capable one of comprehending the importance of our little one's birthday."

Aglaea placed the gifts on the round table. The Garmentmakers followed suit. The remarkable sight of the intricately decorated gifts caused Anaxa to grumble under his breath. Just as they were about to continue bickering once more, the soft sounds of your sniffling pierced through their bubble of simmering hostility—causing them to falter.

They messed up, didn't they?