“Ethan, why don’t you show Daddy how you ride your horse?” I suggested, my voice saccharine sweet.
Ethan obliged, hopping onto the horse with glee. Anthony’s eyes followed him, a calculating look crossing his face.
I waited, heart pounding, as Anthony subtly retrieved the device. I could barely contain my satisfaction, imagining his frustration when he listened to the useless recordings.
Days passed, and Anthony never brought up the incident. His silence spoke volumes. It was as if he knew he had been defeated and didn’t want to admit it. I interpreted his silence as an acknowledgment of defeat, a silent truce.
The sense of triumph and relief I felt was immense. I had protected my son and outwitted my ex-husband. This victory, small but significant, reinforced my resolve to remain vigilant.
Anthony wouldn’t get the better of me. Not now, not ever.
In the quiet moments after Ethan had gone to bed, I found myself smiling. The house was silent, the rocking horse standing innocently in the corner.
I’d been tested, and I had prevailed. And I knew I’d do it again, whatever it took, to keep my son safe and happy.
