Liam Parker sat on the cold bench outside school, gripping his backpack as mothers arrived, greeting their kids with warm hugs. He looked away, his chest tightening. His mom had left three years ago after the divorce, and since then, it had just been him, his sister Emma, and Dad.  

His dad tried his best—making lunches, attending school events—but it wasn’t the same. Liam often wondered if his mom remembered him. Did she still care?  

One evening, Dad sat at the kitchen table, looking pale. "That was your mom," he said. "She wants to visit this weekend."  

Liam froze. "She does?"  

“She does.” 

On Saturday, Liam stood stiffly on the porch as a blue car pulled in. His mom stepped out, her eyes soft and uncertain.  

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said gently.  

Liam’s heart ached, but he didn’t move. Emma, however, ran to her, squealing, "Mommy!" Their mom hugged her tightly, tears streaming. Liam stood apart, walls high.  

Over the next few days, she tried—attending his soccer practice, helping with homework, even making hot chocolate like she used to. But Liam kept his distance.  

One night, he overheard her whisper to Dad, “Maybe he doesn’t want me here.”  

The next afternoon, she was waiting by the school fence. Liam hesitated before walking up.  

“You didn’t leave today,” he said softly.  

“I won’t,” she promised. "Not again."  

He studied her face for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was love. Slowly, he reached for her hand.  

Weeks passed, and the walls crumbled bit by bit. One night, she asked, "Want me to read a bedtime story?"  

He almost said no, then shrugged. “Okay.”  

As her familiar voice filled the room, Liam closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time in years.  

The next morning, walking to school, he squeezed her hand. “Can you pick me up later?”  

Her face lit up. “Of course.”  

And as Liam stepped through the school gates, the ache inside him softened. His mom was home. And this time, she was here to stay.