So I said no.

Not sharply. Not cruelly. Just honestly. I explained that I couldn’t take on that responsibility, that my life was full, that boundaries mattered.

The shift in him was immediate. His voice hardened. He accused me of being heartless, of lacking compassion, and then he left in a rush of anger, pulling the child gently behind him. The door closed, and the silence returned—but heavier this time.

For days, I questioned myself. Could I have handled it differently? Had I been unfair? But as the weeks passed, that doubt faded. I understood that protecting my peace did not make me unkind. It made me honest.

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