The moment my son, Evan, screamed that he didn’t want to come home with me, my world shattered.
“I want to live with Grandma and Dad!” he yelled, his small hands clenching the doorframe of my former mother-in-law’s house.
I swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “Sweetheart, it’s time to go. We need to get home.”
“No!” His face was red, his voice thick with tears. Then, to my horror, he ripped his backpack off his shoulders and threw it at my feet. The zipper burst open, sending drawings spilling out like fallen leaves.
I stood frozen, my heart cracking apart, while my ex-mother-in-law, Linda, appeared in the doorway with a placating smile.
“Maybe just let him stay the night,” she suggested smoothly. “I’ll take him to school tomorrow. He’s clearly not ready to leave.”
It took every ounce of strength I had to unclench my fists and nod. “Fine.”
I scooped up the scattered drawings and left, each step feeling heavier than the last. When I got home, I absentmindedly started sewing the ripped seam of his backpack, trying to keep my hands busy. Then I saw it.
A drawing: “Me, nana, and Disneyland.”
I blinked. What? Evan had never been to Disneyland. Not with me, not with Linda. My gut twisted. Something wasn’t right.
The next morning, Linda dropped Evan off so he could change before school. He barely looked at me, tugging at her hand. “Grandma, can you take me to school?” he pleaded.
She beamed, running her fingers through his dark curls. “Of course, sweet pea.”
I forced a smile, acting as if I wasn’t unraveling inside.
A few hours later, I walked into Evan’s classroom and signed him out. He blinked up at me in confusion. “We’re going home already?”
“Not just yet,” I said with a grin. “How about some ice cream?”
His frown vanished. “Really?”
I held out my hand, and he took it. We went to his favorite shop, and as he licked his chocolate cone, I pulled the drawing from my purse.
“Sweetheart, tell me about this picture.” I kept my voice light, but my heart was racing. “Why is it just you and Grandma?”
Evan hesitated, his small fingers tightening around his cone. “She said if I stay with her, she’d take me to Disneyland,” he finally whispered. “And she’d get me a PlayStation.”
A cold fury settled deep in my chest. I exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. “That’s interesting. How about we make a deal?”
His eyes widened. “What kind of deal?”
“If you come home with me, I’ll get you a PlayStation today.”
His mouth fell open. “Really?!”
I nodded. “But you can’t tell Grandma. Deal?”
He hesitated for only a second before grinning. “Deal!”
That night, as he played happily in the living room, I set my trap.
The next day, I invited Linda to lunch at a cozy café she adored. She arrived with a smug air, her jewelry clinking as she took a seat across from me.
“Oh, dear,” she sighed, feigning concern. “I know this must be hard for you, but Evan has made his decision. He needs his father. Children need stability.”
I stirred my coffee, my lips curling into a knowing smile. “Yes,” I mused. “He told me all about your little arrangement.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup, but she didn’t flinch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I leaned forward. “Disneyland. The PlayStation.” I let the words hang between us. “Bribing a child to manipulate custody? That’s low. Even for you.”
Linda scoffed, flicking her wrist. “I was only thinking of what’s best for Evan.”
I pulled my phone from my purse and set it on the table. “Good. Because I recorded our chat.”
Her face lost its color. “You wouldn’t—”
“I would.” I tilted my head. “And I will. Unless you do exactly as I say.”
She pursed her lips, fury flashing in her eyes. “What do you want?”
I smiled, savoring the shift in power. “You’re going to tell your son to drop any custody attempts. You’re going to remind him that he’s lucky to even get visitation under my terms. And you? You’re going to stay the hell out of my parenting.”
She glared at me, but I saw the defeat in her posture. She knew she had no choice.
That night, as I tucked Evan into bed, he clutched his new PlayStation controller to his chest. “Mom?” he whispered.
“Yeah, baby?”
He looked up at me with big, trusting eyes. “Are we going to Disneyland?”
I let out a soft laugh, brushing his curls from his forehead. “Not yet. But one day, we’ll go. And it’ll be just us.”
He smiled sleepily. “I like that.”
As I turned off the light, my heart felt lighter than it had in months. I had my son back. And no one—not even Linda—was going to take him away from me again.
