I thought my mother-in-law could handle my son for a week. I had Liam young, at 18. His dad was gone before he arrived. It was just us, and I worked hard to provide.
I took any job—waitressing, cleaning, stocking shelves. Some days, I was so tired I could hardly stand. But Liam’s smile kept me going. Then I met James.
James was special. He didn’t care that I was a single mom. He adored Liam, playing games and making funny-shaped pancakes. I started to trust again.
Last year, James and I got married. He planned a honeymoon in the Caribbean. I was nervous about leaving Liam. “My mom will take care of him,” James said.
His mom, Linda, seemed kind. Maybe a bit old-school, but harmless. “Okay,” I said, kissing Liam goodbye. Four days in, my phone rang. It was Linda’s number.
I answered, expecting good news. But it was Liam, his voice tiny and scared. “Mom, don’t give me away!” My heart raced. “What’s wrong, baby?” I asked.
“Grandma and her friend said you’ll put me up for adoption if I’m not good,” he cried. My stomach sank. “Who said that?” I asked, shaking.
“Grandma and Mrs. Chen,” he sobbed. “They said I won’t have you soon.” I held the phone tightly. “That’s a lie,” I said. “I’ll never leave you.”
Liam whimpered. “Why did they say it?” I was furious. “Put Grandma on,” I said. The phone shuffled. Linda’s voice was calm, like nothing happened.
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “Liam’s being sensitive.” I exploded. “You told him I’d abandon him?” Linda sighed. “He needed to behave.”
I hung up and packed my bags. James woke up. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Your mom scared Liam,” I said. “She said I’d give him away.”
James looked shocked. “She wouldn’t.” I glared. “I heard him crying.” He tried to call her, but I was done waiting. I booked a flight home.
The drive to Linda’s was tense. My hands gripped the wheel. I needed Liam. When we got there, I burst through the door without knocking.
Linda was sipping coffee, calm as ever. She looked surprised. “You’re back early,” she said. “Where’s Liam?” I shouted, heart pounding.
“He’s upstairs, napping,” she said casually. “He was tough, but I handled it.” I ran upstairs, ignoring her. I opened Liam’s door, breathless.
Liam was curled up, holding his stuffed dog. His face was tear-stained. He looked so fragile. “Liam,” I whispered. He saw me and jumped up.
“Mom!” he cried, hugging me tightly. “I’m sorry! Don’t leave me!” I held him, tears in my eyes. I kissed his head, promising I’d never go.
Linda stood in the doorway. I glared at her. “Explain,” I demanded. She sighed. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she said.
“You told him I’d give him up,” I said, voice shaking. “You scared him.” Linda shrugged. “Fear teaches kids to listen. It’s how I was raised.”
“You don’t scare kids,” I said. “You love them.” She laughed. “That’s soft.” I saw her true colors—cold and uncaring. I was done.
James walked in, face pale. He’d heard enough. “Mom, did you say that?” he asked. Linda rolled her eyes. “It’s just discipline,” she said.
James’s face hardened. “Then don’t complain when we put you in a home someday,” he said. “Fear’s good, right?” Linda went silent, shocked.
James looked at me. “Let’s go.” I carried Liam downstairs, his arms around me. Linda called after us, but we left without looking back.
Linda kept calling for weeks. She left voicemails, even showed up once, crying. We ignored her at first. Eventually, we gave her a chance.
But she’d never be alone with Liam again. She agreed, but things changed. Liam was different, too. He was clingy, scared I’d leave.
He wouldn’t sleep alone. I blamed myself for trusting Linda. I vowed to protect Liam always. One night, he hugged me as I tucked him in.
“You stayed, Mom,” he whispered. That was all I needed to hear. It made every struggle worth it. I’d never let him down again.
