My boss Antonio Kaufman and I had been married for six years, a secret hidden from everyone, including our son Ivan.

He'd never acknowledged our relationship publicly, and Ivan wasn't allowed to call him "Dad."

After Antonio missed yet another Ivan's birthday for his mistress, I decided on divorce.

I would leave the city with my son.

"Mr. Preston, I'll be next month to study abroad. Here's my resignation," I told my manager.

Trent Preston looked surprised. "Why?"

I lied, "My husband's in Esnaria, and I'm moving there with my son."

He sighed, " I see no grounds to stop you."

As I left his office, I saw Antonio and Molly Nash walking towards me.

Antonio, my boss, was also Ivan's father.

Seven years ago, a drunken one-night stand, when I was his secretary, had resulted in my pregnancy.

We'd secretly married six years ago.

In all that time, Antonio'd never allowed Ivan to call him "Dad."

Antonio walked slowly, accomodating Molly's pace.

She clutched reports in one hand and his arm in the other.

They looked like a sweet couple.

As they passed, I took a deep breath, "Antonio," I said, unable to stop myself, "I need to talk to you."

Antonio stopped, his expression cold. "What is it?"

His tone, polite yet distant, carried a warning, reminding me of my place within the company, a subordinate, nothing more.

"Your shoelace is untied," I said, then turned and walked away.

I had meant to tell him about the divorce.

Back at my desk, My phone rang.It was Ivan.

"Mom, will Dad be home tonight for my birthday?" Ivan asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

I froze, glancing instinctively at Antonio.

He was leaning down, speaking to Molly solicitously.

As someone walked by, he protectively pulled her closer. His gestures, his eyes, radiated tenderness.

A burning sensation spread through me, a lump forming in my throat.

I forced myself to remain calm.

I texted Antonio: "Today is Ivan's birthday. Are you free tonight?"

Across the hallway, I saw him glance at his phone and put it down, dismissing my message.

I gave a bitter smile, took a deep breath, and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

"Soon, Antonio, you'll be free," I thought to myself.

Leaving work, I went directly to the kindergarten to pick up Ivan.

He exclaimed, the moment he saw me. "Today is my birthday!"

Then hopefully, he asked, "Will I see Dad this time? I've never seen him on my birthday."

I pictured Antonio and Molly in my mind, their arms entwined.

"He's busy," I began, but then my phone buzzed.

Antonio had replied: "Yes, I am. See you at home."

I hugged Ivan tightly. "No matter how busy he is, he'll be home to celebrate your birthday."

Ivan jumped up and down, ecstatic.

It was the first birthday in six years that Antonio had agreed to spend with him.

That evening, I prepared a special dinner. Ivan finished his homework early, anticipation radiating from him.

Hours passed. I texted Antonio repeatedly, but as always, there was no response.

Ivan, sensing my hesitation, asked cautiously, "Mom, is Dad really busy with work?"

Unable to lie, I crouched in front of him. "I'll always be here for you, and I'll always love you."

Ivan asked no more questions. Picking up the cake, he said, "Mom, let's make a wish and eat the cake. We don't need to wait for Dad."

I lit the candles and took a photo.

As I was about to post it on Facebook, I saw Molly's update: "A romantic evening with my love."

The accompanying photo showed a table laden with food from a fancy restaurant.

Although their faces weren't visible, I noticed a wedding ring on the hand in the top right corner.

It was the ring I had chosen for Antonio when we married.

He always wore it on the pinky finger of his left hand, the finger that signified being single.

The irony was crushing.

On Ivan's sixth birthday, Antonio was enjoying a candlelit dinner with his mistress.

The pain and anger I'd been carrying suddenly dissolved into a quiet peace.

I liked Molly's post and put my phone down.

"Happy birthday, Ivan." I sang, and in the candlelight, Ivan closed his eyes and made a wish.

"My birthday wish is to be with Mom forever."

Tears streamed down my face, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob.

The urge to leave intensified.

"I'll always be with you," I said, holding Ivan close.

Neither of us mentioned Antonio again that night.

It felt as though it had always only been the two of us.

After Ivan fell asleep, I retrieved the divorce papers from the drawer.

At 2 AM, Antonio finally arrived.

Seeing the cake on the table, a flicker of regret crossed his face.

"Sorry, I forgot."

It was ridiculous.

Was he claiming he hadn't seen my messages?

I held out the divorce papers and flipped to the final page. "Sign this."

Before I could finish speaking, his phone rang.

Molly's voice, laced with anxiety, filled the room. "Mr. Kaufman, I think my power is out. Could you come over and stay with me? I'm really scared."

Antonio jumped up, his face etched with concern. "Don't worry. I'll be right there."

He hung up, tossed the papers aside without a glance, and said,.

"We'll deal with this later," before rushing out the door.

Two weeks later, after I had completed the handover of my work.

Antonio approached me with an exquisitely wrapped gift box.

"I forgot to give this to Ivan for his birthday," he said.

Two weeks late. He'd finally remembered.

I took the gift and unwrapped it-it was a toy Pit Bull Terrier.

Ivan was terrified of Pit Bulls.

When he was five, Antonio had taken him to an amusement park.

He'd let go of Ivan's hand to greet a friend, and Ivan had gotten lost in the crowd.

When he was finally found, he was huddled on the roadside, trembling, having been frightened by a Pit Bull.

Pit Bulls had been his worst nightmare ever since.

And Antonio thought this was an appropriate gift.

I took a deep breath and set the box aside.

"Thank you," I said flatly.

Antonio frowned.

Then, as if just remembering, he said, "Molly's power hasn't been restored since Ivan's birthday. I'm thinking of letting her stay with us."

I forced a smile, "Where will Ivan and I stay?"

"Just take some time off. Pack a bag, and take Ivan somewhere for a few days," Antonio said casually.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Are you kicking me and Ivan out for Molly?"

Antonio frowned, his annoyance evident. "Don't be so dramatic. Molly's stay is temporary."

"No one knows we're married. She thinks I'm single," he added, as if in explanation.

My chest tightened. I took a deep breath.

"You know I prefer to keep my marriage private. You understand that, right?" Antonio continued, justifying himself.

So, Ivan and I were inconveniences, obstacles to his love life.

I couldn't bear to look at him, "Fine. I'll pack and take Ivan out. We won't disturb you."

I had planned to leave anyway; sooner was better.

My ready agreement seemed to surprise him.

His voice softened, "I'll make it up to you and Ivan."

I continued working without looking up.

The scars Antonio had inflicted on Ivan and me ran deep; no amount of "making up" could erase them..

I packed our bags and we left the apartment.

Just as we were leaving the building, we ran into Antonio returning with Molly.

He was wheeling her suitcase and they were both beaming.

When our eyes met, panic flashed across Antonio's face.

Molly gasped, her eyes widening. "Grace, why are you at Mr. Kaufman's place?"

I pulled Ivan behind me, shielding him. "I..."

"They are relatives, staying with me for a while," Antonio butted in.

My grip tightened on the suitcase.

This wasn't the first time he'd denied our relationship, but each time felt like a fresh stab to the heart.

Before I could speak, Ivan said, "Hello, Uncle Antonio."

I turned, shocked, to see tears welling in Ivan's eyes. "Mom, let's go."

"OK, sweetheart, right away," I said, stroking his hair.

As we walked past, Antonio grabbed my arm.

"What did Ivan ... just call me?" he asked, incredulous.

I replied calmly. "Aren't you his uncle?"

For six years, Antonio had maintained his charade, forcing Ivan to call him "Uncle Antonio," forbidding him from using the word."Dad."

Now Ivan was finally detaching, and Antonio was surprised? Shouldn't he be happy?

I tried to pull my arm free, but his grip was firm.

He looked at me, his expression a mixture of emotions. "Wait. Give me a few days.

"I'll explain to Ivan."

I reminded him, "Molly is waiting. Let go."

As if realizing what he was doing, he reluctantly released me.

I scoffed and took Ivan's hand. We turned to leave again.

"Wait!" Antonio called.

He hurried back to his car, retrieved a box, and handed it to Ivan. "Happy birthday, Ivan," he said.

Molly smiled at me. "This cake was actually for me. So today's your son's birthday?"

"Ivan's birthday was two weeks ago." I said, starting to hand the cake back.

But then I saw the look of anticipation on Ivan's face.

He didn't understand the complexities of the adult world. "Will you eat it with me?" He asked Antonio.

Antonio hesitated then agreed.

Ivan cheered and ran into the living room, urging me to open the box.

I followed, stroking his hair, and cut him a piece.

Ivan took a bite, and his smile instantly vanished.

"Spit it out! Don't swallow!" I cried, grabbing the cake.

Antonio's face darkened.

"Grace, have you lost your mind?"

I looked up, my eyes burning. "Don't you know Ivan is allergic to mangoes?"

Panic flooded Antonio's face. "Sorry, I didn't know."

Another apology.

I had heard it countless times since Ivan was born.

Ivan, understanding what had happened, stared blankly at Antonio, the anticipation gone from his eyes.

"It's okay; it's normal they didn't know," Ivan muttered, burying his face in my chest.

He refused to look at Antonio again.

Without a word, I scooped Ivan up and walked out.

I could feel Antonio's eyes on me as we left.

But he wouldn't feel guilty.

"I have to divorce him. I have to leave with Ivan!" I thought fiercely.