Three Chances, Then Gone

Archie started bawling. "Daddy, you are my daddy! You're not gonna stop wanting me, right? I don't wanna be a kid without a dad!"

Stanley panicked, trying to hush him.

"Don't cry, don't cry. Luca didn't mean it. I'm your dad. Just yours."

"Stanley Gibson." My voice was ice. "Think hard. You've got two chances left. You really choosing him over Luca?"

***

Stanley froze.

He looked at me, panicked, like he wanted to explain—but Archie's sobs pulled him back.

After a beat, he glanced at us with that weak, sorry expression.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Then he turned, hugging Archie tight.

"Don't cry, Archie. You're my only child. I'm only your dad."

Drip.

Luca's tears hit the floor.

He slipped his hand into mine, voice raw.

"Mom, let's go. I don't want a birthday anymore. I just wanna go home."

"Okay." My voice cracked. I held him close and didn't look back.

"Wait," Stanley called after us.

He darted to the table, sliced the ruined cake, and held it out.

"Luca, happy birthday."

Luca bit his lip so hard I felt it in my bones. Then, quiet but sharp:

"Thank you, Mr. Gibson."

Stanley flinched.

Took a step forward—then Hallie tugged him back.

"Stanley, Archie's waiting to eat cake with you."

He lowered his head. Turned around.

Didn't look back.

I knew what he was telling himself—

'It's fine. There's still one more chance.'

***

That night, I changed the locks.

Tossed all Stanley's stuff onto the lawn.

Luca just stood there, silent.

Then the lawyer showed up, pulling the divorce papers from her bag.

"Ms. Lynn, here's the draft you asked for."

I skimmed it, double-checked everything, and grabbed the pen.

Just as I was about to sign, Luca ran over with a gift box clutched to his chest.

"Mom, wait. Can we open Dad's gift first? He still has one more chance. Please—just let me be done with it."

He smiled, but it hit harder than tears.

He wasn't ready. Not yet.

I ruffled his hair, stayed quiet, and handed him the scissors.

The box was way too light—no shot it had the Lego set he'd been waiting on.

But he was right. If we were ending this, it had to be all the way.

He snipped through the wrap. Underneath—Lego box.

His eyes lit up, fingers shaking as he popped it open.

Smile started, then stalled.

"Why... is it empty?"

He ripped through the whole thing. Nothing.

Just a ripped scrap of paper:

[Archie got bored of his toys, so I let him have yours first. I'll get you another one later.]

Drip.

Luca's tears hit the note.

That was it. Last chance—gone.

He dropped the paper, picked up the pen, and handed it to me.

"Mom, sign it."

Then Stanley's voice cut in.

"Sign what?"

He'd just finished calming Hallie and her kid, eased through the half-open door, still wearing that clueless smile.

"What are you two talking about?"