Five Years Post‑Divorce: I Delivered Food to My Ex‑Wife’s Tomson Riviera Mansion

“You have a new food delivery order. Please accept it in time.”

The notification on my phone pulled me back to my senses.

None of that mattered anymore.

Noah was still waiting for me at the hospital to earn money for his life-saving treatment. I couldn’t slack off.

By the time I walked out of Tomson Riviera, a torrential downpour had suddenly started outside.

I hadn’t brought a raincoat, and the raindrops pounding against me hurt.

But the heavier the rain, the higher the payout for each delivery.