Amelia’s POV.In front of me, I saw Jayden, my classmate, being pushed around by a group of kids. They were laughing as he stumbled and fell, landing hard on the ground. I felt my blood boiling, my body flooded with rage. How could a kid so young be so cruel? I slammed the car door and strode over to them, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why did you push him?” I yelled, my voice shaking with anger. The kids flinched, clearly taken aback by my outburst. But I didn't care. I just wanted to make them stop.“Answer me!” I yelled. I have zero tolerance when it comes to bullying, it reminds me of my childhood.Their eyes were full of disbelief as they turned to Jayden, who was staring at me in terror. “They didn't push me,” he stammered. “We were just playing.” His words struck me like a blow. It didn't make sense. I knew what I had seen. Jayden was lying to cover for his tormentors. But why? I tried to maintain a calm demeanor, even though I was seething inside. “You were just playing

Amelia's POV.“Your eyes are swollen,” he said, and I froze in my tracks. Greyson had never commented on my appearance before, so why now? And why did he sound so concerned? Was he just being polite, or did he genuinely care? I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I stood there, speechless, as Greyson's gaze lingered on me. “Amelia!” He called out.“Oh this?” I said, rubbing my eyes. “It’s nothing,” I muttered, giving him a smile that never reaches my eyes.“If you say so,” he said, finally breaking the silence. I nodded, trying to regain my composure. I continued walking past him, my heart still racing. What was that all about?I shoved the strange encounter with Greyson out of my mind and made my way up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door behind me, the noise echoing through the empty house. I walked over to my closet and pulled out a box from the top shelf. Inside, nestled among my most treasured possessions, was a picture of my parents. I took it out and hu

Greyson’s POV.I scrolled through my phone, a slideshow of memories from happier times playing out on the screen. There were photos of my wife and me, smiling and laughing, our arms around each other, surrounded by our friends and family. Then there were pictures of my son, so small and precious, his big blue eyes shining with wonder and joy. A lump formed in my throat as I swiped through the pictures, a bittersweet ache in my chest. Today marked three years since my wife had left me with our son, not caring he was small and needed a mother figure. I remembered how I had begged her to stay, to give me one more chance, but she had refused. She had called our son a “mess to deal with,” her words stinging like a slap in the face. I had spent the last three years alone, my heart broken and my life in shambles. But despite it all, I still loved her. I let out a sad, wry laugh. Love was such a strange, complicated thing. It could make you feel the highest of highs, but it could also bring

Amelia’s POV.“What?!” I yelled, my voice ringing through the small, dark room. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. The man in front of me, Greyson, had just said something so shocking and offensive that I couldn't even process it. My hands flew to my mouth, my brain racing, my heart pounding. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, and I pushed past Greyson, unable to stay in his presence any longer. Never before had I been so insulted, never before had my feelings been so hurt.I hurried down the stairs, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet. I expected Greyson to call out to me, to apologize for what he had said. But I heard nothing. I reached the bottom of the stairs and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me. I collapsed onto the floor, my body shaking with sobs. My tears flowed freely, and I put my hands over my mouth, trying to muffle my screams. I waited for the sound of footsteps, for the knock on the door, for Greyson to apologize. But there was only silence.My

Greyson’s POV.“A gun?” I asked, my voice disbelieving. “What on earth would you be doing with a gun?” “Well, I almost escaped a… a…,” she struggled to find the words, “an attempted sexual assault, so the police gave me a gun for safety reasons.” My mind reeled. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. “What?” I yelled, my voice ringing through the room. She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with me. “Why are you so surprised? It's not like I'm a criminal or something.”“Oh my God, Amelia,” I said, my voice trembling. “You used that gun in front of my son?” “No,” she said quickly, “I'm not that dumb. I made sure Jayden was in the car. I put some cartoons on my phone for him to watch while I went to deal with the car that was following us. When we were almost home, I stepped out and shot the man through the car window, hitting him in the left eye.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt a rush of emotions: relief, fear, disbelief. "Thank you, but that doesn’t mean, I still a