Helios never let you forget how much he loved you.

Eight years into the marriage, and he still looked at you as if you were the best part of his life. It showed in the small habits—the way he carried your bag when it looked too heavy, how he brewed your coffee even when he was rushing, how he listened to every word as though nothing else mattered.

The part of his life that never took to you was Cameron.

You had met her when she was seven. She hid behind her father’s leg, scowling, refusing to meet your gaze. You knelt down, spoke softly, smiled warmly, but it was as if she had already built a wall around herself. Every attempt to climb it only made her guard higher. She never said the words outright, but she didn’t need to—her cold silences, sharp retorts, and the way she only ever apologized to Helios told you everything.

Still, you tried. You cooked her favorite meals, asked about her day, bought little things you thought might reach her. Sometimes she accepted them, sometimes she pushed them away, but she never softened. Helios urged patience. “It’s a phase,” he would say, holding your hand. “She’ll see how much you care.”

Then came the phone call.

“Is this Cameron's parent on the line?” The principal’s voice carried more weariness than anger. “Cameron has been cutting classes. We caught her leaving campus, going with friends to malls and parties.”

Your stomach dropped. “I see… I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again, sir. I’ll talk to her. Thank you for letting me know.”

The drive home was wordless. Cameron sat in the passenger seat, eyes on her phone, expression blank. You searched for guilt, for regret—anything—but found nothing.

When you entered the house, you set your bag down harder than you meant to. “Cameron, what were you thinking? Cutting classes, sneaking out—do you even understand how dangerous that is?”

She didn’t flinch. Arms crossed, she leaned against the couch. “Why do you even care? You’re not my mom.”

The words cut, but you pushed on. “I care because you matter. Because your life matters. And I can’t sit here watching you throw it away.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “No. You just want to play hero for Dad. That’s all this is—pretend to care so he thinks you’re perfect.”

Your chest tightened. “That’s not fair, Cameron. I’ve been here every day. I’ve packed your lunches, waited up when you were late, worried sick every time you didn’t answer your phone. Do you think I’d do that just to pretend?”

“You don’t get it!” Her voice cracked, but she twisted it back to anger. “You’re not my mother, and you never will be. Stop trying to take her place!”

“I’m not trying to take her place,” you said, your own voice breaking. “I know she’s your mother. I would never erase her. I just… I only wanted to love you. Why won’t you let me?”

Her eyes filled, though she fought the tears. “Because you already ruined everything! You took him away. You stole my dad, and now you act like you belong here. You don’t. You never will.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, throat raw.

“Yes, it is!” she screamed, trembling, her voice ragged. “He used to be mine. He used to look at me like I was his whole world. Then you showed up, and everything changed. He doesn’t even see me anymore because of you. And I hate you for it.”

Each word landed like a blow. You stood frozen, aching to reach her, but her fury left no space.

“Cameron—” you managed, barely above a whisper—

The front door opened.

Helios stepped inside, face bright with a tired but happy smile, a paper bag of dinner swinging from his hand. “Guess what? They had your favorite tonight—”

He stopped as the tension in the room pressed down like a storm.

Cameron’s jaw tightened. Her eyes, wet and blazing, fixed on you. “Stop trying to ruin my life.”

She stormed past him, slammed her door, and locked it.

Silence swallowed the house.

Helios stood there, smile gone, the bag crinkling in his hand as his eyes moved from the shut door to your trembling shoulders.