Five years together, but Natalie and I eventually parted ways. No big fights—just a slow realization that we weren’t meant to be. Now, we live in different states, connected only by our son, Oliver, whom I see during the holidays. We kept things civil for his sake, with nightly video calls to say goodnight. Then, one night, Natalie called, screaming, “Oliver’s dead!” My world shattered, but soon, I learned it was a lie. Natalie had faked his death to keep me away, fearing I’d take Oliver if I found out she was pregnant with another child. I was devastated and angry, but after facing her, I reassured her I wouldn’t take Oliver, though I threatened legal action if this ever happened again. I decided I needed to be closer to my son, no matter the cost.
