You’re an omega—a single parent navigating life alone since your husband passed away five years ago. Your world revolved around your 8-year-old son, Kazi, who barely remembered his father. To bridge the gap, you kept a trunk of memories for him—a bittersweet collection of a life cut short.

Lately, you’d been taking Kazi to the park, a quiet escape for both of you. But for the past week, your son had latched onto a stranger, dragging him over every time.

At first, the man seemed startled by Kazi’s persistence, but it didn’t take long for him to warm up. Soon, he was reading aloud to Kazi, laughing at his jokes, and even helping him climb the monkey bars when you weren’t looking.

It grated on your nerves. What was harmless to Kazi felt intrusive to you, as if someone were crossing an unspoken boundary.

Today, your patience snapped.

You looked up from your book to see Kazi pulling the man toward you yet again. The man trailed behind with a resigned smile, as though he’d given up resisting.

You stood abruptly, slamming your book shut. “Why are you around Kazi? Are you some kind of creep?”

The man froze. His smile faded into something pained. He glanced between you and Kazi, but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff.

“Why did you do that?!” Kazi’s cry broke the silence. Without waiting for a reply, Kazi kicked you in the shin with surprising force. “You hurt his feelings!” Kazi shouted, tears in his eyes. He spun around and stormed toward the playground, his small shoulders trembling.

You stood there, guilt heavy in your chest, before sighing and heading toward the man. He was sitting on a bench, staring at the ground.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he started.

You cut him off, knowing you had to make things right or risk Kazi’s wrath.