She Took My Place — I Don’t Want to Go to Daddy’s… Aunt Lily Said Daddy Doesn’t Love Me Anymore — Little Michael Hugged His Knees and Hid His Face, Sitting on the Bed Joanna Stood Still. Everything Seemed the Same as Always: Crumpled Pyjamas with Cars, a Backpack Overflowing with Toys in the Corner, Jacket on the Chair. Everything So Familiar and Inviting—Except Her Son Was Curled Up and Silent. Today He Was Supposed to Visit His Father, But Suddenly He Begged to Stay Home. Recently, He Had Stopped Looking Forward to These Visits. Joanna Tried to Convince Him, But Michael Revealed That Lily, Daddy’s New Girlfriend, Had Been Saying Hurtful Things. — Michael… — She Sat Carefully Beside Him. — Please Tell Me What Happened. He Stayed Quiet. Then Raised His Head, Looking Up at Her. He No Longer Looked Like a Five-Year-Old—His Eyes Held an Exhaustion and Sadness You’d Expect from an Adult Nobody Believes. — I Was Just Playing… She Got Angry Because the Toy Was Loud—That Robot, Remember? She Took It and Told Me They’d Have Another Child, And Daddy Would Forget Me. She Said I Didn’t Belong. And If I Tell Anyone—He Sighed Loudly—They’ll Think I’m Lying. Because Aunt Lily Will Say It Isn’t True. She’s Grown-Up. They’ll Believe Her. He Spoke Slowly, Halting, Almost Crying. Joanna Felt Fury, Fear, and Guilt Ignite Within Her for Letting Things Get This Far. A Heavy Anxiety Tightened Her Throat. Michael Turned and Began Picking at the Sheet. She Reached Out Her Hand. — I Believe You. You Know Why? Because You Never Lie—Except When You Find My Sweet Hiding Spots. He Snorted, But Didn’t Smile. — Daddy Chose Her Instead of Me… — Daddy Just Doesn’t Know the Full Truth Yet, — Joanna Said, Trying to Sound Confident. — But He Will, I Promise. When Joanna Put Michael to Bed, She Decided to Make Herself a Cup of Tea. In the Quiet of the Night, She Remembered How She First Met Lily. If You Could Even Call It Meeting. About a Year Ago, She Received a Message from an Anonymous Profile: *“Good Evening! I Won’t Say Who I Am—Just Know I Mean Well. If You’re Interested Where Your Husband Spends His Evenings, Come Monday at Seven to the Restaurant on King Street, Number 8. Table by the Window.”* Back Then, Joanna Wondered Who the “Well-Wisher” Was. Now She Knew: Lily—a Well-Wisher Who Reeked of Rot. That Night, Joanna Saw Everything. Drago Seated Across From Lily. Their Hands on the Table, Fingers Entwined, A Kiss on the Cheek. He Mumbled Something About a Business Meeting, About a “Friend,” And Afterwards—“Nothing Serious.” But Joanna Wasn’t Ready to Forgive His Betrayal. They Separated. But Michael Remained. And So Did Lily, Soon to Be Drago’s Wife. Her Image Was Impeccable: Polite, Gentle to the Point of Being Overbearing, Good With Children. The Whole Package. She Even Gave Michael Toy Gifts for Holidays—Puzzles, Dinosaur Sets, Once a Giant Plush Frog. But These Gifts Were for Drago, Not For the Boy. Lily Did Not Care About Winning Michael’s Love; She Wanted the Man’s Attention. Her Kindness Was a Tool, Her Smile a Trap. Now, With the Promise of Her Own Child on the Horizon, Lily’s Tone Changed. She Made Only One Mistake: Joanna Could Let Go of a Man—but Not Her Son’s Feelings. A To-Do List Hung on the Fridge, But Joanna Didn’t Care. She Had One More Task Tonight—A Very Important One: Speak to Drago. She Stared at the Phone Screen for a Long Time Before Pressing Call. The Rings Seemed Longer Than Usual. When Her Ex-Husband Answered, Irritation Tinged His Voice. It Was Late. — Is This Urgent? — Urgent. We Need to Talk. About Michael. He Tensed Instantly—even Through the Phone. — What’s Wrong? Is He Sick? — No. He Doesn’t Want to Visit You Anymore. He Said Lily Says Hurtful Things—That You Don’t Love Him Anymore, That You’ll Have Another Child and Forget Him. The Other End Was Silent. Then Drago Responded Sharply, With a Hint of Anger, As If She Was Accusing Him of This Low Behavior. — Joanna, Come On! You Seriously Think I’ll Believe These Lies? Here You Go Again—Trying to Interfere in My Life and Relationship with Lily Through the Child! — I’m Not Starting Anything. I’m His Mum. And I Listen to Him. You Don’t, Apparently. — Joanna’s Voice Was Firm. — He Was Scared to Tell You. And He Was Right. — You’re Just Using Him! — Drago Snapped. — You Want Him To Stop Coming Here—Make Me Feel Guilty and Chase After You. It’s Impossible With You, Joanna. Absolutely Impossible. She Couldn’t Respond Immediately, Not Wanting the Conversation to Descend into a Row. Holding Back Her Anger Was Difficult. Her Temples Throbbed. This Was Drago—not the Worst Father, But Always Stuck in Teenage Habits: Everyone Was Against Him. He Could Be Gentle With His Son, Sure. But When It Came to Lily… Michael Reached for a Plush Bear from the Shelf—and For the First Time in Ages, Joanna and Drago Shared an Understanding Look, Knowing That, In the End, Their Love for Him Would Always Unite Them.

She took my place
I dont want to go to Daddys Aunt Linda said Daddy doesnt love me anymore, Michael hugged his knees and buried his face in them, sitting on his bed.
Emma stood still. It seemed as though everything was just as usual. Crumpled pyjamas with little cars, a rucksack bursting with toys in the corner, a jacket draped over a chair. Everything felt so familiar and welcoming. Yet her son wasnt running around the house like a hurricane, but curled up in the corner, hunched over.
He was supposed to visit his father today, but suddenly he pleaded to stay home. Thinking back, Emma realised hed begun to look at these visits with less excitement lately. Shed tried to persuade him, but Michael abruptly confided that Linda, Harrys new girlfriend, insulted him.
Michael Emma sat carefully beside him. Tell me, please, what happened?
He stayed quiet for a while. Then he lifted his head a bit and looked up at her. He didnt look five anymore. His eyes held a weariness and sadness that belonged to someone far older, someone nobody believed.
I was just playing She got annoyed because the toy was noisy. That robot, do you remember? She took it away and said theyd have another child, and Daddy would forget me. And that I was extra. If I tell anyone, he sighed loudly, theyll think Im lying. Because Aunt Linda will say its not true. Shes grown-up. Theyll believe her.
He spoke softly, haltingly, almost in tears. Emma felt a storm of anger, fear, and guilt ignite inside her for letting things get this far. Her throat tightened with anxiety. Michael began picking at the sheet with his fingernail. Emma offered her hand.
I believe you. Do you know why? Because you never lie. Except when you find the hidden sweets.
He snorted, but didnt smile.
Daddy chose her instead of me
Daddy just doesnt know the whole truth, Emma replied, trying to sound firm. But he will. Hell understand.
When Emma tucked Michael into bed, she resolved to make herself a cup of tea. In the quiet of the evening, her mind wandered to how shed met Linda if you could call it a meeting.
About a year ago, shed received a message from an anonymous profile: *Good evening! I wont say who I am, just know I wish you well. If you want to know where your husband spends his evenings, come Monday at seven to the restaurant on Queens Road, number 18. Table by the window.*
Back then, Emma had wondered who was behind the concerned friend mask. Now she knew: Linda. A so-called well-wisher with a hint of something rotten.
That evening, Emma had seen everything. Harry, sitting opposite Linda. Their hands on the table. Fingers intertwined. A kiss on the cheek. He mumbled afterward about a business meeting, about a friend, and finally about nothing serious. But Emma wasnt ready to forgive his betrayal.
They broke up. But Michael remained and Linda, who was soon to become Harrys fiancée.
Lindas image was flawless: polite, gentle to the point of absurdity, adept with children. The full package. She even gifted Michael toys at Christmas. Puzzles, dinosaur playsets, once a huge plush frog.
But those presents werent for the child, but for Harry. Linda didnt care about Michaels love, only Harrys attention. Her kindness was a tool, her smile a lure. Now, as her patience wore thin and a baby of her own seemed likely, Linda changed her tune.
She made one mistake: Emma could let go of a man, but not of her sons feelings.
On the fridge hung a to-do list, but Emma didnt care. She had one task left for today. The most important. Talk to Harry.
She stared at her phone screen for a long time before pressing the call button. The ringing seemed to drone on forever. When her ex-husband finally answered, his voice was tinged with annoyance. It was late.
Is something urgent?
Yes. We need to talk. About Michael.
He tensed right away. She felt it even through the phone.
Whats happened? Is he ill?
No. He doesnt want to visit you anymore. He told me Linda says horrible things. That you dont love him. That youll have another child and forget him.
Silence followed on the other end. Then Harry spoke sharply, with irritation, as though he was being accused of something shameful.
Emma, can we not exaggerate? You seriously expect me to believe these lies? Youre at it again. Trying to meddle in my life and my relationship with Linda through our son!
This isnt meddling. Im his mother. And I listen to him. You, apparently, dont. Emmas voice was steady now. He was afraid to talk to you. And it looks like he had good reason.
Youre just using him! he exploded. You want him to stop coming here. So Ill feel guilty and chase after you. Youre impossible, Emma. Truly impossible.
Emma couldnt answer right away, worried their talk would slide into a nasty argument. It was hard to contain her fury; her temples throbbed.
Thats Harry. Not the worst dad, but always with the same teenage habits convinced everyones against him. He could be caring with his son, yes. But when it came to Linda, his mind seemed to shut down.
Michael reached for his teddy bear from the shelf, and Emma and Harry, for the first time in ages, shared a look of understanding, knowing that, in the end, love for their son would always unite them.
I learned that sometimes adults act no better than children, and when my son turns to me for help, I must always put him first, no matter what my own pain is.