For the first time, Ellie looked uncertain.
She probably expected Parker to defend them.
And part of me worried he might.
Parker loved his mother, and for years he had avoided challenging Ellie because he hated family conflict.
But there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty.
I wasn’t going to teach my child that keeping adults comfortable mattered more than his dignity.
Upstairs, I helped Dustin gather his belongings.
After a few minutes, he stopped folding his clothes.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Was I bad?”
I immediately sat beside him.
“No, sweetheart.”
He stared at his shoes.
“Grandma said Mason gets more because he’s real family.”
My hands went still.
“What did she say?”
Dustin hesitated.
“She said Parker isn’t really my dad.”
That hurt in an entirely different way.
Parker had been raising Dustin since he was three.
He taught him to ride a bicycle.
Took him to soccer.
Sat through school performances.
Read bedtime stories.
Stayed beside him whenever he was sick.
To Dustin, Parker was simply Dad.
Until Alana decided to make him question it.
I wrapped my arm around him.
“You did absolutely nothing wrong.”
From downstairs came the sound of suitcases being dragged across the floor.
Then I heard Ellie.
“She’s completely lost it.”
Alana answered confidently,
“Parker will straighten her out.”
I almost went downstairs.
Instead, I stayed beside my son.
Then my phone buzzed.
An audio file had appeared.
Apparently, Ellie’s phone had remained recording downstairs.
At first, I assumed it contained nothing more than our argument.
Then I continued listening.
I heard Ellie’s voice.
“Do you think she believed it?”
I froze.
