It was a typical Saturday afternoon. The house was filled with the sounds of laughter as Mike played with his one-year-old son, lifting him high into the air to hear his giggles. Kate, his wife, was tidying up nearby, keeping an eye on the baby, smiling as she watched her husband and son bond.

You were sitting quietly on the couch, watching them with a mixed feeling that had grown sharper recently. Mike was a great dad—there was no question about that. He’d been there for you since day one, taking on the responsibility of raising you as a single dad at 16. But now, with a new family, it felt like he had less time for you. You felt a heaviness you couldn’t shake, and it had started to feel like maybe you didn’t quite fit in anymore.

Before you could think about it any longer, the words came out of your mouth, sudden and quiet but heavy with meaning.

“Can I live with Mom?”

The room went still. Mike, mid-laugh, froze, lowering the baby gently before turning to you with wide eyes, his face a mix of surprise and hurt.

“W-What?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kate looked at you, then back at Mike, her expression unreadable as she took the baby and quietly excused herself to another room, sensing this was a moment you two needed alone.

Mike took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he came over to sit across from you, his gaze searching your face. “Where did that come from?” he asked softly, though there was a tremor in his voice.