3

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this arrangement?" I managed to ask, though my throat felt like it was closing up.

"Oh sweetie, I just assumed Alex had discussed it with you," Sophia said, her voice dripping with concern that felt like goo on my skin. "You know how men are about communication, right?"

Some of the other parents were definitely listening now. Mrs. Patterson, Lucas's teacher, was watching us with obvious curiosity. I could feel my face heating up with embarrassment.

"Well, that arrangement ends today," I said firmly. "I'll be picking up Lucas from now on. You don't need to come here anymore."

Sophia's perfect smile faltered for just a second before returning full force. "Are you sure? Lucas and I have such a wonderful routine. He loves our after-school adventures."

I glared at her the way Maya taught me. "I'm sure."

Before she could respond, the school doors opened and children started pouring out. I scanned the crowd for Lucas, my heart lifting slightly at the thought of seeing my little boy. After the horrible twenty-four hours I'd had, I needed his hugs and his silly jokes and his pure, innocent love.

When I saw him, I grinned instantly, my heart soaring.

My baby boy.

Lucas came running out with his dinosaur backpack bouncing behind him, his dark hair messy from whatever playground adventures he'd had during recess. His face lit up when he spotted us, and he started running faster.

I bent down with my arms open, ready for the hug I desperately needed. "Hey baby, how was school?"

But Lucas ran right past me.

Straight into Sophia's arms.

"Sophia!" he squealed, throwing his little arms around her neck like she was his whole world. "I missed you so much today!"

I stayed crouched down with my arms still open, feeling like someone had just punched me in the stomach. Hard.

"I missed you too, sweetheart," Sophia cooed, lifting him up and spinning him around. "Did you have fun at your sleepover with Aunt Maya last night?"

She even knew about the sleep over?

I slowly stood up, trying to swallow the hurt that was threatening to choke me. "Lucas, c-come give Mommy a hug."

He looked at me over Sophia's shoulder, and for a moment I thought he might actually come to me. But then he turned back to Sophia and buried his face in her neck.

"Sophia," he said in that loud, clear voice that children use when they don't understand they're breaking someone's heart, "can you be my real mommy? Mommy Ivy is always sad and boring, and you're fun and pretty and you smell like flowers."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the other kids seemed to have stopped talking. I could feel every parent in that pickup line staring at us, their expressions ranging from sympathy to secondhand embarrassment to barely concealed gossip-hungry excitement.

Sophia's eyes widened in what looked like genuine surprise, but there was something else there too. Something that looked almost... satisfied.

That fucking bitch.

"Oh sweetie," she said, her voice carrying just the right amount of shock and concern for our audience. "Ivy is your mommy. I'm just your friend."

But she didn't put him down. She didn't tell him that what he said was hurtful or wrong. She just held him tighter while he nodded against her shoulder.

"Lucas," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady, "you already have a mommy. I'm your mommy. I gave birth to you, and I love you more than anything in this world."

He finally looked at me then, and the casual indifference in his three-year-old eyes nearly broke me. "But Sophia is more fun. She takes me for ice cream and lets me stay up late and doesn't cry all the time like you do."

More stares. More whispers. Mrs. Patterson looked like she wanted to disappear into the ground.

"We're going home," I said, reaching for Lucas. "Now."

"But Sophia promised we could get ice cream today!" Lucas protested, clinging to her even tighter. "She always takes me for ice cream after school!"

"Not today," I said firmly, finally managing to extract my son from Sophia's arms despite his protests. "I make the parenting decisions, not visitors."

Sophia's perfect smile turned just a little bit cold at that last word. "Of course, Ivy. I was just trying to help."

Lucas started crying as I carried him toward the car, his little fists hitting my shoulders. "I want Sophia! I want ice cream! You're mean and boring and I don't want you to be my mommy anymore!"

Each word was like a knife twisting in my chest, but I kept walking. Other parents moved out of our way, some looking sympathetic, others clearly enjoying the drama.

"I want Sophia!" Lucas screamed as I buckled him into his car seat. "I hate you! I hate you! I want my real daddy and I want Sophia to be my real mommy!"

I drove home with tears streaming down my face while my son cried and kicked the back of my seat, demanding to go back to Sophia.