Rejected

Evangeline POV

I woke up to the faint glow of morning seeping through the curtain. For a second, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling an odd weight on my chest that had nothing to do with sleep. My limbs ached with tiredness, but something tugged at the edge of my mind.

Noah.

I bolted upright, my heart skipping a frantic beat.

Today was Noah's birthday.

Guilt surged through me like a tidal wave. I glanced at the bedside clock. Past nine. Damn it. I was supposed to wake up early, make him pancakes like I used to when he was little, sing to him first thing, make him feel special. That was the plan I'd made last night—another plan crushed by exhaustion.

I swung my legs off the bed, wincing as my feet hit the cold floor. I rushed through a bath, barely feeling the warm water cascade down my skin. It was supposed to soothe me, but it only made me more anxious. My fingers trembled as I dressed in a simple blouse and jeans, not even bothering with makeup. Noah wouldn’t care about how I looked. He just wanted me.

At least, I hoped he still did.

When I finally hurried downstairs, my steps slowed at the soft sounds of laughter floating from the kitchen.

I paused at the hallway, peeking in.

There they were.

Nathan, leaning against the counter with his arms folded, watching with a faint, unreadable smile. Lora, crouched near the oven, flour dusting her arms, her cheeks pink with effort and laughter. And Noah — my sweet little boy — standing on a small stool, grinning so wide his dimples cut deep into his chubby cheeks as he tried to "help" mix something in a bowl.

A pang twisted in my chest.

They looked like... a family.

One I wasn’t part of.

I lingered at the doorway, a lump forming in my throat. My hands gripped the sides of my jeans, crumpling the fabric. I wanted to step in, to laugh along with them, to pull Noah into my arms and remind him that I was here. That I was trying.

But I just stood there, invisible, soaking it all in.

"Mommy!" Noah finally noticed me and squealed, his little face lighting up before it quickly morphed into an exaggerated frown. He crossed his arms over his tiny chest. "You're late Mommy, did you forget today was my birthday?!" he announced with all the gravity of a judge delivering a sentence.

I smiled, walking in slowly, my legs feeling heavier with each step. "I know, my love," I cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek gently. "I'm so sorry. Mommy overslept."

Noah stuck out his bottom lip in an adorable pout. "Today’s my birthday, how can you do that," he said with the seriousness only a five-year-old could muster.

"I know, sweetheart. And we’re going to make it the best birthday ever." I leaned down to kiss his forehead, inhaling his sweet, sugary scent—vanilla, flour, and chocolate.

Nathan didn’t say a word. He just watched. Silent, unmoving, a coldness in his eyes that made me shiver despite the warm kitchen.

Lora broke the silence, flashing me a smile that was just a little too bright. "Noah loved the chocolates you brought back from work last night," she said lightly, dusting her hands off. "We’re almost done with the cake!"

"Yeah! And Aunty Lora let me crack the eggs!" Noah crowed, lifting his messy hands in triumph. Everyone chuckled. Even Nathan's lips twitched upward.

I forced a laugh, my chest tightening.

I missed this. I missed him.

I missed us.

Trying to push the heavy feelings aside, I brightened my voice. "Hey, why don’t we take a picture? I want to frame it. We don’t have enough family photos around here."

"Yeah!" Noah jumped up and down excitedly, almost knocking over the mixing bowl.

I pulled out my phone, fiddling with the camera settings as I walked over to Nathan and Noah, feeling a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe today could still be salvaged. Maybe we could capture a good memory, something I could look back on and believe in.

"Lora," I said, handing her the phone, "Would you mind taking the picture?"

But before she could take it, Noah piped up, his voice bright and innocent. "No! I want Aunty Lora in the picture!"

I froze, mid-step.

Noah continued, his little face earnest. "Aunty Lora looks more like a mommy than you do."

Silence.

The words, so innocently said, sliced through me like a knife.

I blinked at him, the world blurring for a second. Nathan shifted but said nothing. Lora's cheeks flushed a deep red, her hands wringing the hem of her apron.

I tried to smile, tried to steady the trembling of my fingers.

"Of course, sweetheart," I whispered hoarsely. "Anything for you."

I took back the phone, but my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold it. The phone almost slipped from my grasp.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't pretend everything was fine.

Setting the phone carefully on the counter, I forced a brittle laugh. "I’m just... I’ll be right back. Need some fresh air," I mumbled, already backing away before anyone could see the tears pooling in my eyes.

"No, Mommy! Where you going?" Noah called, confused.

"Just outside for a minute, love," I managed, not looking back. "I’ll be right back."

I slipped out the front door, the cool morning air hitting my flushed cheeks like a slap. I wrapped my arms around myself, stepping onto the sidewalk.

Each step felt heavier than the last.

His words echoed in my head, over and over.

"Aunty Lora looks more like a mommy than you do."

Maybe he was right.

Maybe I wasn't really there for him.

Not like a mother should be.

I worked late hours, took business trips, missed bedtime stories, missed dinners. I told myself it was all for him—for us—for a better future. Promotions, bonuses, job security. A good house. Good schools. A better life.

But at what cost?

I wandered aimlessly down the street, barely noticing the world around me. Just houses, neat and colorful, families starting their day, kids running and laughing.

The lump in my throat grew bigger, tighter. I wiped at my cheeks, realizing only then that I was crying.

I failed him.

I failed them.

And maybe Nathan... maybe he was tired of waiting for me to come home, too. Maybe that’s why things felt so different lately—so distant, so strained.

I didn't know how long I walked, lost in my own pain. Five minutes? Ten? Longer?

Finally, with leaden feet, I turned back. I had to go back. I had to fix this. For Noah, if nothing else.

I wiped my face roughly, forcing a deep breath into my lungs, willing myself to be strong.

When I opened the front door and stepped into the living room, the last thing I expected was—

Nathan. Lora. On the couch.

Half-naked.

Locked together in a heated kiss.

Nathan’s hands roaming over Lora’s bare waist, her fingers tangled in his hair.

My heart stopped.

For one long, excruciating second, no one moved.

Then they heard the door creak shut behind me.

Their heads snapped up. Their eyes met mine.

Wide. Guilty. Frozen.

The phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the floor.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Only a broken, hollow gasp.

The world tilted around me, the ground disappearing from beneath my feet.

Nathan stood up, half-buttoning his shirt, panic flashing across his face. Lora pulled a blanket around herself, her cheeks pale, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"Evangeline—" Nathan started.

But I was already backing away.

Step by step. Trembling, broken.

Everything inside me cracking apart.

I didn’t wait to hear the lies he was about to spin.

I didn’t wait to hear her apologies.

I turned and ran, the sobs clawing their way up my throat.

And behind me, the sound of Noah’s laughter drifted from the kitchen, innocent and sweet, slicing my heart open with every note.