The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 527

Thapter 527 What Matters More?

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The more she spoke, the more emotional she became, as if she were dumping every grievance from work, every ounce of pressure from battling competitors, all into this moment. “Do you know how much extra work I’ve had to take on just to deal with Tycoon Farm? Do you know how it feels when customers point at my face and curse me over the bundled sales policy? Everything I do is for this family! And what do I get? The people closest to me are stabbing me in the back!”

“Seafarm’s produce is good?” Oscar laughed bitterly. His laugh dripped with sarcasm and burnout. “Yeah. Real good. So good that customers are forced into bundled purchases. So good that people scream at your stores every day for bullying consumers. So good that my coworkers and friends don’t even want to shop there anymore because they’re forced to buy rotten vegetables they don’t want just to get access to meat! Cyndi, look at yourself. Ever since your store started that stupid bundled–sales program, what time do you come home every night? Have you smiled once after walking through that door? Either you complain about difficult customers, curse your staff for being incompetent, or sit there clutching your terminal, calculating those damn performance numbers. Does this house even feel like a home anymore? Calum barely recognizes you as his mother. He gets scared every time you come home!”

The words hit like an ice–coated knife, driving straight into the weakest part of Cyndi’s heart. It ripped open the truth she had buried beneath years of relentless hustle and sacrifice for the family.

She staggered backward, nearly collapsing before grabbing the couch for support.

She looked at her husband, whose face had turned unrecognizable with anger and disappointment. She looked at her mother–in- law’s conflicted expression, full of concern for her grandson and resentment toward her. She looked at her son’s tear–streaked face staring at her in fear.

“Why was I working this hard?” she asked weakly, her voice hollow and trembling. “Wasn’t it all for this family? I can pay off the mortgage sooner, so Calum could go to the best school…”

“You do it for your sales numbers! For your pride! For your position at Seafarm!” Oscar cut her off mercilessly, exhaustion and heartbreak bleeding through every word. “Cyndi, you weren’t like this when we got married. You used to come home excited to te me funny stories about customers. You’d spend entire afternoons building blocks with Calum. You learned soup recipes from Mon You’d get excited planning weekend outings with us. But now? Your whole world is KPI metrics, market share, and that damn Seafarm. Every time you come home, you dump all your work stress, all the frustration you swallowed outside, and all your cold, corporate logic onto us! This box of strawberries…”

He bent down and picked up one relatively clean strawberry still resting in it paper divider.

Under the light, it gleamed an almost shocking red, carrying a cool, sweet fragrance.

“No matter how expensive it is, no matter if it’s from the competitor you keep talking about, it’s still just a box of strawberries! It was our way, as your family, to do something nice for our child! We wanted you to try some too, so you’d stop obsessing over Seafarm Group every second of the day! But to you, it somehow turned into betrayal. Into an insult to your career. Into some unforgivable crime! Cyndi, tell me. Have we changed, or has that job completely twisted you into someone else?! In your heart, what matters more, us or Seafarm Group’s sales numbers?!”

Cyndi stared blankly at the strawberry sitting inches away from her.

That bright, glossy red no longer looked sweet or tempting. To her, it felt like a mocking flame, scorching her eyes and burning straight through the fragile emotional walls she’d been struggling to hold together.

Her lips parted slightly. She wanted to argue back, wanted to explain herself, wanted to say that everything she’d done had reas< behind it, that she’d had no choice, that it was all for the family’s future in the long run…

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Chapter 327 What Matters Mige?

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But the crushing disappointment in her husband’s eves, along with the sound of her son trying desperately to hold back his sobs, lodged in her throat like a boulder. Ali tre polished justifications she’d prepared suddenly sounded hollow and pathetic

Oscar didn’t wait for her to respond.

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