Calling my kids from the living room for dinner for the third time, I could tell they were completely ignoring me. They were having far too much of a good time glued to the TV, playing on the PlayStation with my partner Paul*, and though I should have been annoyed that their fish fingers and chips were getting cold, I couldn’t help but smile.
It was 2005, and Paul and I had been together for a few years since meeting as neighbours. A single mum to my two children, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but Paul was friendly, kind and great with my kids, too, which was a huge bonus.
Paul was a dad himself and had a son, Oliver*, then one. He had Paul’s smile and was cheeky, just like his dad. We looked after Oliver a few days a week while his mum went to work, and sometimes he came to spend the weekend with us, too. Paul adored him and always helped to look after him, and I made an effort to make sure Oliver was part of our family.
Then, in 2007, Paul and I had a baby of our own, followed by a second the following year. By now, I’d developed a close relationship with Oliver and treated him just like one of my own. He was a lovely little boy, full of energy, and we loved having him over. I got to know his mum, too, and although there were occasional difficulties with communication, we all worked hard to make things work as a family.
Then, one evening in December 2016, when Oliver, then 12, was at his mum’s, Paul and I had just snuggled up on the sofa to watch TV when there was a knock at the door. Paul got up to answer it, and I heard a deep, stern voice.
Bu hikaye WOMAN'S OWN dergisinin January 10, 2022 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Bu hikaye WOMAN'S OWN dergisinin January 10, 2022 sayısından alınmıştır.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Giriş Yap
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