She Erased Him, For Her Son

Cook

rthday. Every year before, there was always a "critical meeting" or an "unavoidable business trip." I'd always just made excuses, swallowed my hurt, and tried

Monkey balloons swung from the light fixture, a vibrant green tablecloth covered the table, and a towering ca

ly by the window, his little nose pressed against the glass, scanning the driveway. "He's coming, right, Mommy?" he

more mocking. The monkey balloons seemed to deflate with each passing minute. My phone remained stubbornly si

ely audible, "is Daddy really, really coming?" He didn't cry, but his eyes, usually so bright, looked du

ould I feed him that lie? How many times could I feed myself that lie? "He's not coming, is he, Mommy?" he murm

need him. We have each other. And we' re going to have the best birthday party ever, just the

n King movie? And eat ice cream with the cake?" His requests were so small,

top of his head, savoring the scent of his ha

n Instagram notification. It wasn't Elijah. It was Chelsi Bowers. My fingers

pagne glasses with a group of smiling executives. The backdrop was a dimly lit, opulent restaurant

s Elijah's distinctive watch, a limited-edition timepiece I' d given him for their first anniversary. He a

ly flirting with another woman, neglecting his son on his birthday. He wasn't "runni

rshadowed by a sudden, exhilarating clarity. The tears that had been threatening to fa

est mentor a girl could ask for! So much to learn from Elijah Melton!" I typed a comment. "Looks like a wonderful time, Chelsi! En

cked up a small, glittery party hat from the table and gently placed it on

oy that had nothing to do with fancy dinners

urse,

wish we could always be together, just you and me." His wish was

photo of Leo, his party hat slightly askew, a wide, gap-too

settling in my chest. There was no turning ba

said, my voice fi