It became our rhythm: every Saturday, she’d whisk him off for adventures.
Yet, that day, his innocent words made my heart pound.
Eli had never known his real father—Trent left before I knew I was pregnant.
I never told him.
So who was this “other dad”?
As Eli confirmed Lily knew him, I followed them the next weekend.
At the park, I saw them—Lily, Eli, and a man in a cap and sunglasses, laughing like a perfect family.
My stomach twisted.
Hours later, when they returned, I was waiting. And then I saw his face.
Trent. Older, leaner—but him.
Lily admitted she’d told Trent about Eli. He claimed he never knew I was pregnant.
He just wanted to know his son. She thought she was protecting us, easing him into Eli’s life slowly.
I felt betrayed, but when Eli asked if he could see Trent again, I couldn’t say no outright.
That night, I called Trent. “I’m not forgiving you overnight,” I told him. “But I won’t keep Eli from you—if we go slow, together.”
Trust may splinter, but sometimes, if you’re willing, it can still grow back.
