Being a single mom wasn’t the hardest part. The hardest part was watching my daughter, time and time again, realize that her father would always choose someone else over her. But when he tried to take back the birthday gift he had given her just to please his new wife, I decided it was time to teach him a lesson.
Some wounds never heal. They don’t fade with time; they remain raw and open, waiting for the slightest touch to make them bleed again.
Willie, my ex-husband, was one of those wounds. He left me with a pain I couldn’t erase, with twelve years of marriage shattered and the weight of raising our daughter, Lily, alone.
Late at night, I often replayed our marriage, trying to pinpoint where the cracks began. Was it when Willie started coming home late? When our conversations became nothing more than empty exchanges? Or when the silence between us became louder than any words?
But I didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on the past. I adjusted. I took on two jobs to ensure Lily never felt the absence he left behind. And every morning, I looked at myself in the mirror and repeated: You’re stronger than this. She will never see you break.
Then, one evening, Willie called me. His voice was casual, as if we were discussing the weather.
— Hey, Judy, he said. About that tablet I gave Lily for her birthday…
A bad feeling settled in my stomach. — What about it?
— I need it back.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, convinced I misheard him. — Excuse me, what?!
He said it so carelessly, like it was nothing. — Sarah thinks it was too much. We’re trying to be more mindful of our spending, and she doesn’t think a kid should have something that expensive.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. — Are you serious? You haven’t paid child support in six months, and now you’re worried about finances?!
Willie sighed, like I was the one making this difficult. — Don’t turn this into a thing, Judy.
Word for word, he had promised that tablet to Lily. She had been waiting for it for months. And now, just because Sarah changed her mind, he thought he could take it back?
— She’s my wife, he said, as if that justified everything. We make decisions together now.
And our daughter? She was just something he left behind.
At that moment, Lily appeared in the doorway, clutching the tablet tightly to her chest. Tears were quietly rolling down her cheeks.
That was it. My decision was made.
— Fine, I said, keeping my voice steady. You can have the tablet.
He sounded surprised. — Really?
— Yes. But on one condition.
He chuckled, thinking it would be something minor. — Sure. Whatever you say.
Oh, Willie… he had no idea what he had just walked into.
That night, I gathered every receipt, every unpaid bill, every sacrifice I had made for Lily. A mountain of documents proving just how little he had contributed to his daughter’s life.
The next day, we met at a coffee shop. Lily sat beside me, holding the tablet tightly, silent but visibly hurt.
Willie and Sarah walked in confidently. He reached for the tablet.
I slid a thick stack of papers across the table.
— What’s this? he asked, eyeing the documents.
I smiled. — A breakdown of everything you owe Lily. You can have the tablet… after you reimburse her for what she spent on it.
Sarah rolled her eyes. — This is unnecessary.
— Is it? I replied. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re teaching my daughter that gifts can be taken back whenever someone else disapproves. That’s not how life works.
Lily gripped the tablet even tighter, like she was holding onto a piece of herself.
Willie looked caught between shame and anger. After a long pause, he let out a frustrated sigh and muttered:
— Fine. Keep the stupid tablet.
He stood up and stormed out, Sarah huffing as she followed behind.
Lily turned to me, her big, innocent eyes searching for confirmation. — I get to keep it?
I pulled her close and kissed her forehead. — It was always yours, sweetheart.
A few days later, Willie sent me a text: You made me look bad in front of Sarah.
I stared at the message and smirked. You did that all by yourself, Willie.
That night, as Lily played on her tablet, she suddenly paused and asked softly:
— Mom, do you think Dad really loves me?
The question hit me hard.
I wrapped my arms around her and said gently:
— Love isn’t just words, baby. It’s actions. It’s showing up. It’s being there.
She let out a small sigh. — He’s not there much.
I kissed the top of her head. — I know, sweetheart. But that’s on him. Not you.
Lily got to keep her tablet. But more importantly, she learned a lesson that would serve her for life:
When someone tries to manipulate you, stand your ground. And when someone truly loves you, they don’t make you feel like an afterthought.
Because real parents don’t walk away. They stay. They don’t just make promises—they keep them.