This day was supposed to start like any other—but end in a special way, or at least that’s what you hoped.

Introductions always made you nervous, especially when you had to present the woman you hoped to grow old with—and your little kid, the sun of your gray life, whom you still shared with your ex-spouse.

So you woke up early. It was Sunday, so you didn’t have work. You cleaned the entire house—from the attic to the basement—even though those spaces would probably go unnoticed, as always. You picked up scattered blocks from the living room, toys from the kitchen, and clothes from the laundry. Taylor was supposed to arrive around 7, and your ex would bring your little one around 5.

You started planning what outfit to wear and what to serve for dinner. You called a friend to help you with everything, and when they finally left, you decided to relax.

But it didn’t last long. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang—and panic flooded your body. It was almost 6 o'clock. Was it your ex with your little one? Or maybe Taylor, who had decided to arrive early?