Photos

Olivia’s POV:

I was about to leave, tears burning in my eyes, when the teacher's voice called out behind me.

"Wait! Please, just a moment." She hurried over, her face creased with concern. "I think we should sort this out properly."

My feet felt heavy as I turned back. The whispers hadn't stopped, but now they held a note of uncertainty.

"Oliver," the teacher called out firmly. "Come here right now."

Oliver dragged his feet as he approached, shooting annoyed glances at Rachel, who still stood by the playground equipment.

"Oliver," the teacher crouched down to his level, her voice gentle but serious. "I need you to think very carefully about what you're saying. This is a very serious matter. Are you absolutely sure about what you told us?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me the same thing?" Oliver's voice rose with frustration. "I already said Rachel is my mom! She picks me up every day! She helps me with my homework! She makes me special snacks!" He jabbed a finger in my direction. "That lady just keeps showing up and saying she's my mom, but she's not! She's never here!"

Each word felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Where was my sweet little boy who used to run to me with skinned knees and bad dreams?

"Oliver James Winters!"

Derek's voice cracked across the playground like thunder. I hadn't even heard him approach.

Our son's face went pale as Derek strode up to us, his expression thunderous. "What do you think you're doing, speaking to your mother that way?"

"But Dad-" Oliver started.

"No." Derek cut him off. "Rachel is my secretary. Nothing more." He turned to address the gathered crowd of parents and teachers. "I apologize for any confusion. Yes, Rachel helps with pickup when my mate - Oliver's actual mother - is busy with her duties as Head Healer. But she is NOT Oliver's mother, and I'm shocked to hear she's been allowing anyone to think otherwise."

"I'm sorry Derek, please listen to me, Oliver didn't mean it. "At that moment Rachel came over to me and for the first time I saw a jittery look on her face as she looked at Derek with a soft gaze.

Apparently, Derek had seen her, too, and his face was filled with rage that, "Rachel. Office. Now. We'll discuss your... overstepping later. And let me be perfectly clear - if anything like this happens again, you'll be looking for new employment. Stay away from my son."

Rachel's perfect composure cracked. "Derek, I never meant-"

"Now, Rachel." Derek's voice left no room for argument.

Tears came to her eyes and she covered her face and hastily threw them away, but before they did, I caught a flash of something in her eyes as she looked at Derek. That something made my stomach twist.

"As for you, young man," Derek turned back to Oliver, "we will be having a very serious discussion about respect and honesty when you get home."

Oliver's lower lip trembled. "But Rachel said-"

"I don't care what Rachel said," Derek interrupted. "This woman here is your mother. Your only mother. The one who gave birth to you, who loves you more than anything. And you will treat her with respect."

The gathered parents began dispersing, their whispers now sympathetic rather than accusatory. The teacher touched my arm gently.

"I'm so sorry for the confusion, Mrs. Winters. If you'd like to talk about this..."

But I couldn't stay. Couldn't bear to see the pity in their eyes or the rebellion still simmering in Oliver's.

I drove home in a daze, tears blurring my vision. When had I lost my son so completely? When had another woman stolen my place in his heart?

Almost without conscious thought, I found myself in Oliver's room. The sight of his toys, his books, his little shoes lined up by the door - it was too much.

I started pulling out boxes from his closet. Baby clothes I'd carefully preserved. The tiny hospital bracelet from the day he was born. The blue blanket he'd refused to sleep without until he was three.

Each item held a memory. The yellow onesie he wore when he took his first steps. The tiny sweater he had on in his first pack photo.

I'd been there for every moment. Every milestone. Every triumph and tear.

Carefully, I unfolded each piece of clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles. The stack of photo albums came next - pages and pages of documented memories. Oliver's first smile. His first tooth. The day he learned to write his name.

My fingers trembled as I opened another box, this one filled with artwork from his early school days. Construction paper cards covered in glitter. Handprint turkeys. A Mother's Day card from last year that read "To the best mommy ever!"

What had changed? When had I gone from "best mommy ever" to someone he would deny in public?

At the bottom of the box, my hands brushed against something different. A worn envelope, tucked away beneath years of memories.

Inside was a stack of photos I'd never seen before. When I pulled them out, my heart stopped.

Derek and Rachel. Together. Young and clearly in love.

Some of the photos are group shots, of a group out on a field trip, and Derek and Rachel are in them with their arms around each other's waists.

Some are pictures of two people together, in the house, outside. Some are of two people hugging and kissing, there's one of Derek cooking with an apron on, and there's a silhouette of two people hugging at sunset.

My hands shook as I reached the last item in the envelope. A letter, dated six years ago.

My Dear Rachel,

I know this isn't what we planned. Olivia is pregnant. As a fated mate, I'm expected to go through with the mating ritual.

But I want you to know - if you'll have me, I'll cancel it all. Pregnant or not, fated mates or not, I choose you. I've always chosen you.

Please say you'll stay with me.

Forever yours,

Derek

The letter slipped from my numb fingers, landing among the scattered remnants of my son's childhood. Among the memories of a life I thought was mine.