Isabella's Point of View
I quickly ran up the stairs to Mrs. Chen's apartment. My heart beat faster so hard I think it might break my ribs if care is not taken. The custody papers. Ethan is really going to try to take Oliver away from me.
I knock on Mrs. Chen's door. She opens it with a smile but her face changes when she sees me.
"Isabella, dear, you look terrible. What happened?"
"Is Oliver okay?"
"He is fine. Playing with my grandson's vintage toys in the living room.
I can hear Oliver laughing from within the apartment
The sweet sound makes my chest tight. He has no idea his world might change forever.
"Mommy!" Oliver runs to me. His small arms encircle my legs. "Mrs. Chen allowed me to play with the fire truck." "It produces actual sounds!"
I lift him and embrace him tightly. He smells like the syrup from breakfast and the apple juice that Mrs. Chen provided him.
He is so small. So perfect. So mine.
"Did you miss me, baby?"
"A little bit. Mrs. Chen shared tales from her childhood in China. "Are you aware that dragons exist there?"
I grin despite feeling like crying. "Seriously?" "Share details regarding the dragons."
Oliver speaks quickly about magical castles, princesses, and dragons. His vibrant green eyes sparkle with enthusiasm
Ethan's eyes. The same color. The same shape. Anyone who sees them together will know right away.
"Thank you for watching him," I told Mrs. Chen.
"Anytime, dear. But Isabella, if you need someone to talk to..."
"I am fine. Really."
Mrs. Chen doesn't trust me, yet she agrees. "You look after yourself." "That young boy requires his mom."
We returned to our apartment. Oliver rushes to his toy chest and begins playing with his cars. He creates revving noises and collides them together.
Normal three-year-old boy things.
I watch him play and think about Ethan's words. Oliver deserves to know his father. Maybe that is true. Yet Oliver also merits a father who will not harm him.
"Mommy, why do you seem unhappy?"
Oliver halts his game and gazes at me
He is so smart for three years old. He notices everything.
"I am just thinking, baby."
"About what?"
"About how much I love you."
Oliver grins. "I love you too, Mommy. More than ice cream."
"More than dinosaurs?"
"More than Dinosaurs and ice cream? What a combo!
I laugh and sit down next to him. Oliver climbs onto my lap.
He is growing larger each day, yet he still perfectly fits in my arms.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
The children at daycare have fathers
Where is my daddy?"
My heart stops. This question comes up more and more lately. Oliver is getting older. He notices that other families look different than ours.
"I told you, baby. Your daddy lives far away."
"But why? Does he not like me?"
The innocent question breaks my heart. "Oh, Oliver. He does not even know about you. But if he did, he would love you so much."
"Then why do you not call him and tell him about me?"
I stare at my little boy. His green eyes are so serious. So hopeful. He wants a daddy so badly.
"It is complicated, baby."
"What does complicated mean?"
"It means grown-up stuff that is hard to understand."
Oliver thinks about this. Then he asks the question I have been dreading.
"Can I call him? Can I tell him about me?"
"No, baby. We cannot call him."
"Why not?"
"Because..." "Beyond dinosaurs and ice cream combined!"
I laugh softly and sit down on the floor next to him. Oliver is on my lap
He is growing larger each day, yet he still perfectly fits in my arms.
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
The children at daycare have fathers
That Ethan will be too busy for Oliver. That he will promise to be a good father but then choose work over his son. That Oliver will wait by the window for a daddy who never comes home.
"I do not know, Oliver."
"I think daddies who are too busy are not very good daddies."
My smart little boy. He understands more than I thought.
"You are right. Good daddies make time for their children."
"Like Mrs. Rodriguez's husband. He picks up Maria every day from daycare. And he comes to all the school shows."
I believe I recognize Mr. Rodriguez. He works at the grocery store
Not wealthy like Ethan. However, he is consistently present for his daughter.
"Mr. Rodriguez is an excellent father."
"I would like to have a father like that."
"I understand, darling." "Perhaps one day."
Yet, as I express these words, I recognize that they could be untrue.
Ethan wants custody now. But what happens when the excitement wears off? What happens when Oliver gets sick at two in the morning? What happens when Ethan gets a big business deal that needs his attention?
My phone buzzes. A text message.
"Isabella, we need to talk about Oliver's schedule. When does he go to daycare? What time does he eat dinner? I want to know everything about my son's life."
I deleted the message without answering.
The phone buzzes again.
"I am not going away. The sooner we work together, the easier this will be for Oliver."
Work together. Like we are partners. Like he has been here all along taking care of our son.
I turn off my phone.
"Who keeps calling you, Mommy?"
"Nobody important."
But Oliver is smart. He sees my worried face.
"Is someone trying to take me away?"
The question hits me like lightning. How did he know?
"What makes you think that, baby?"
""Since you appear frightened." "Similar to when we saw that film regarding the small fish and the large shark that aimed to consume him."
I compel a grin. "No one is going to separate us." "I give you my word."
"Great." "Since I wish to be with you for all eternity."
"Always and forever," I say again.
We cook dinner together. Oliver is standing on a chair assisting me in stirring the soup. He shares details about his day at daycare, the drawing he created, and the new song he picked up.
Normal things. Beautiful things. The life we built together without Ethan.
Following dinner, I bathe Oliver. He engages with his rubber duck and invents tales about duck escapades. He is extremely joyful. So naïve.
"Mommy, can we read three tales this evening instead of two?"
"Of course, sweetheart."
We lounged on his bed and read stories about courageous knights and kind monsters. Oliver remembers every word of his favorite tale. He assists me in reading it aloud.
While he drifts off to sleep, I sit next to his bed and watch his breath. His dark hair is messy on the pillow
His small hand grasps his plush elephant. He appears extremely tranquil.
I recall the initial moment I embraced him. He was very small. Thus crimson and creased. Yet, when he opened his eyes and gazed at me, I fell in love more deeply than I ever had with anyone.
Inclusion of Ethan.
Oliver belongs to me. I nurtured him within me. I sensed him shift and kick. I spoke with him prior to his birth. I assured him that I would always safeguard him
And I will.
Even from his own father.
I head to the kitchen and prepare coffee. I require some time to reflect
I need to plan. Ethan has money and lawyers. But I have something more powerful. I have love. I have three years of memories. I have bedtime stories and scraped knees and birthday parties.
I have been Oliver's whole world.
My phone rings. I sent it to voicemail. I proceed to hear the message.
"Isabella, I know you are scared. I know you think I will hurt Oliver the way I hurt you. But I am different now. I have spent three years reflecting on my errors. Three years to understand what I lost when you departed. I ask for an opportunity to demonstrate that I can be the dad Oliver needs
Call me back."
His voice sounds sad. Tired. Maybe even sorry.
But sorry does not make up for three years of missed bedtime stories. Sorry does not make up for the nights I walked the floor with a crying baby while Ethan was probably working late in his office.
Sorry is not enough.
I deleted the message.
Then I do something I should have done three years ago. I called a lawyer.
"Hi, you're speaking with Legal Aid." "How may I assist you?"
"I'm seeking assistance with a custody matter." "My former spouse wishes to remove my son from my care."
"What is your financial status, miss?"
"I possess very little money." "However, I will do whatever it takes to protect my son."
"We are here to assist you." "Are you able to come in tomorrow morning?"
"Absolutely." "Thanks."
I end the call and gaze at Oliver's bedroom door. My small son rests securely in his crib. Tomorrow I will begin to fight for him.
But tonight, I will simply be his mother.
I look in on him again before I head to bed. He is still resting soundly. Continuing to grasp his elephant.
"I care for you deeply, Oliver," I murmur. "And I will always ensure that no one can take you from me."
While shutting his door, I hear a noise coming from outside. An automobile motor. Then the sound of car doors closing.
I gaze through the window.
Ethan is on the pavement gazing at our structure.
He ha
s two other men with him. One has a briefcase. The other has papers in his hand.
The custody papers.
They are coming up the stairs now.
Someone knocks on my door.