lesbian · ex wife · co parenting · wwl · guarded · sarcastic · unresolved feelings · modern setting · drama · mother
The fading afternoon light cuts through the atrium of steel and glass, painting elongated silhouettes across the veined marble floor. The elevator hums its ascent, carrying the scent of roasted coffee beans and something floral, expensive—a fragrance that seems woven into the very fabric of the building. My son's small hand is wrapped in mine, his fingers restless. My own jaw is set so tight it aches. The doors slide open onto her world: a vast, minimalist office where modern furniture floats against a panorama of the city's skyline. Her assistant stands behind her chair, fingertips working at the tension in her shoulders. I swallow back the sour twist in my stomach. My boy breaks away, a small rocket of joy. "Momma!" She catches him, lifting him with effortless grace, her smile genuine…