A soft knock on Alina’s bedroom door startled her from her reverie. She had just finished showering and put on a simple cream house dress.

“Mama! Mama, are you awake?”

Daniel Jr.

Alina opened the door and the six-year-old boy immediately hugged her waist tightly.

“Junior, sweetheart. Why are you up so early?” Alina crouched down, touching the child’s soft cheek.

“I woke up early because I wanted to give you this!” Daniel Jr. pulled out a handmade card from behind his back. “Happy anniversary, Mama! I made it myself at school yesterday!”

Alina received the card with trembling hands. On the cover was a drawing of two people—a woman and a little boy—holding hands under a rainbow. Not three people. Just two.

“Where’s Papa in this picture, sweetheart?” Alina asked softly, though her heart already knew the answer.

Daniel Jr. scratched his head. “Papa’s always busy. So I just drew me and Mama. Because Mama’s always with me.”

Four years since Daniel Jr. could talk, and this child already understood the reality that even Alina needed five years to accept: Daniel was never truly part of their lives.

Inside the card, in uneven childish handwriting, was a message: “For the best Mama in the world. I love Mama more than chocolate ice cream! Thank you for being my Mama. – Junior.”

Alina hugged the child tightly, trying to hide the sob threatening to escape. This was the only reason she held on. This little boy who loved her unconditionally, who called her ‘Mama’ sincerely, who didn’t know that the woman who’d cared for him for five years was just a replacement—a temporary wife his father chose to look after his child from his first marriage.

“Mama loves Junior,” Alina whispered while kissing the top of the child’s head. “Thank you for the most beautiful card Mama has ever received.”

And it was true. Because the only person who remembered her special day was a six-year-old child who wasn’t even her own flesh and blood.

Alina and Junior went down to the dining room together.

The dining room felt cold that morning despite the warm sunlight streaming through the large windows. Daniel was already sitting in his usual place, reading his tablet while drinking black coffee. When Alina entered with Junior, his eyes lifted briefly—there was something in his gaze. Discomfort? Guilt?

“Good morning,” Alina greeted in a controlled voice.

“Morning.” Daniel set down his tablet—something that rarely happened. His eyes met Alina’s briefly before shifting to Junior. “Good morning, Junior.”

“Papa! Papa, do you know what day it is today?” Daniel Jr. ran to his chair enthusiastically.

Daniel took a breath. “It’s Papa and Mama’s anniversary. Five years.”

Alina was surprised. Daniel remembered. Or at least, now he remembered after this morning’s confrontation.

“Yes! I made a card for Mama! Has Papa given Mama a present yet?”

Silence. Alina could see Daniel had no answer.

“Papa’s busy, Junior,” Alina cut in gently, saving Daniel from his own confusion. “Let’s eat breakfast first, okay?”

Mrs. Helen brought plates of Junior’s favorite pancakes. The boy immediately ate hungrily, unaware of the tension between his two parents.

“Mrs. Helen, please prepare orange juice for Junior,” Alina said.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Daniel watched Alina from across the table. There was something he wanted to say, but his mouth remained closed. His hand tapped softly on the table surface—a sign he was uncomfortable.

“Junior, finish your breakfast. You’ll be late for school,” Daniel finally said.

“Okay, Papa!”

“Mrs. Helen, please take Junior to school this morning,” Daniel looked at Alina. “Alina and I need to talk.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Junior looked at Alina with slightly worried eyes. “Mama’s not taking me?”

“Mama has important business with Papa,” Daniel quickly answered his son’s question.

Alina smiled reassuringly, stroking Junior’s head. “Mama will pick you up this afternoon.”

“Promise, Mama!”

“Promise, sweetheart.”

After Junior left, the mansion suddenly fell silent. Only Alina and Daniel remained in the spacious dining room.

Daniel set down his coffee cup. “Alina, we need to talk.”

“What else is there to talk about?”

“About this morning. About… everything.” Daniel rubbed his face—a gesture Alina was seeing more frequently today. “I know I was wrong—”

“You know after I had to tell you.” Alina looked at Daniel sharply. “Are you always this ‘aware’ after getting caught?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did. Repeatedly.” Alina stood from her chair. “And the worst part? I’m not even sure you care.”

Daniel stood as well, his jaw hardening. “Of course I care—”

“Care?” Alina laughed bitterly. “You came home smelling of another woman’s perfume with lipstick on your collar, Daniel. Spent our anniversary night at a welcome party for your ex-wife. You call that caring?”

“Alina, don’t dramatize—”

“I sat alone last night, blowing out anniversary candles by myself!” Alina’s tears began to fall. “And now you’re telling me I’m being dramatic?”

“I gave you everything! This house, unlimited credit cards—”

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