CHAPTER THREE

Lucy’s POV 

Why did Noah call Blair mom? 

Was she the mom the kids were talking about earlier? 

I got puzzled, confused, and hurt. Mixed emotions. 

I got home. My body is still weak from everything I’ve seen and heard a while ago. There was Tom, lounging on the couch with his hands stained with paint. 

“Hey, you’re home.” he said casually.

He didn’t even look up at me. I know he’s also tired.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw my bag. But I stayed calm. 

“Tom.” I said, swallowing hard, “Why did Blair pick up Noah?” 

His eyes widened, surprised, like he didn’t expect me to know. 

“I was really busy, Lucy. I just finished a painting and needed a break. I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy too. And besides, Blair is very fond of Noah. She will not complain.” he said. 

I nodded, but something felt off.  This didn’t feel like the first time. Has he been asking Blair to pick up our son behind my back? Without even my consent? 

“You should have called me, Tom. Noah is my son. He’s my priority.” I said, voice rising despite my efforts. 

He knew I was angry. I walked to the kitchen, grabbed some water, and drank. I was trying to cool down, and I felt him behind me. 

“Lucy… are you mad?” he asked softly, fragilely. 

Who wouldn’t be mad?  I wanted to tell him everything, but I didn’t even know what I was truly afraid of. 

“I’m sorry, honey. I promise I’ll ask you next time.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I love you. You know that.” 

I sighed. Every time I got upset, he always turned sweet. 

“By the way...” he added, chuckling.

“I made your favorite blueberry cheesecake.” he grinned.

My stomach fluttered. He knew I couldn’t resist that. I’d been trying to avoid sweets, but he always made it. 

“Tom, you kno—” 

He cuts me off. He already knew what I was about to say. 

“Come on, Lucy. Don’t waste it. You’re not fat, okay? You’re sexy in my eyes. Don’t let other people make you feel less.” he smiled. 

I gave in. I grabbed a spoon and started eating. 

Then the front door opened. Noah came in smiling wide. But his smile faded away when he saw me. His smile was transformed into a disgusting look. I was heartbroken.

“Eww, Mom! You’re eating again. Look at you. You’re already too fat.” he sneered. 

I froze, spoon mid-air.

“Blair wouldn’t eat like that,” he added. 

Double kill. I dropped the spoon. Shame hit me like a slap.  My own son looked at me like I was disgusting. I hated how easily I gave in to Tom’s desserts. I hated how Noah looked at me with nothing but judgment. 

“Noah! That’s not how you treat your mom!” Tom snapped. 

Noah didn’t answer. He didn’t even look sorry. 

“Tom, stop.“ I said quietly, forcing a sad smile. 

Yes, Noah was still young. But Tom was right that he shouldn't treat me this way. I’m still his mother. 

“Apologize to your mom.” Tom said. 

Noah let out a sigh and looked at me. Like I was the reason he was in trouble. 

“I’m sorry, Mom.” he said coldly. 

I knew it wasn’t sincere. But it was fine. I told myself he was just a child, maybe confused. 

“It’s okay, Noah.” I said, smiling gently. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” 

He just nodded silently. 

The next morning, I left work early to bake cookies for Noah. I was excited. I knew he couldn’t resist them. 

“I’ll go now. I don’t want to be late!” I told my coworkers as I left. 

I couldn’t stop smiling as I reached his school. I found a good spot where he could see me right away when the kids came out. I even wore a nice dress. I wanted to look presentable. Even if I’m… fat. 

Finally, the bell rang. I stood up eagerly. A few minutes later, I spotted Noah. 

“Noah!” I waved. “Honey! I brought you cookies!” 

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance at me. 

Then a boy beside him turned to me. 

“You’re Noah’s nanny, right?” 

My chest tightened. Nanny? 

“I’m sorry.” I said. “I’m Noah’s mom.” 

“What? But… you’re not his mom.” another boy replied, confused. 

I already knew who they meant. And my heart shattered all over again. 

“Yeah,” the first kid said. “Noah’s mom is a pretty lady with long blonde hair.” 

My throat went dry. They were talking about Blair. I ignored them and looked at Noah. He was glaring at me, and before I held his hand, he turned and ran without a word.

“Noah!” I called, voice cracking.

He didn’t even look back. I stood frozen. I was humiliated. 

The boys walked away while still laughing.  Laughing about Noah’s real mom. They kept on saying I am his nanny and Blair is his mom.  I looked at myself and hated myself more. My efforts were useless. The dress didn’t work. I looked at the cookies and smiled bitterly. 

Fighting tears, I forced myself to head home. I couldn’t find Noah. Maybe he had gone ahead with friends.  

As I unlocked the gate, my phone buzzed.

“Tom,” I answered, biting my lip. “I just got home. Noah ran off earlier—” 

“Lucy,” his voice cut in, panicked. 

“Noah’s been rushed to the hospital! He had an asthma attack, some kids teased him about lying. I’m on my way now.” 

I froze. The cookies slipped from my hands.