Jay wiped the last streak of dust from the polished floor, her arms sore, back stiff.
The sun slanted through the tall windows of the living room, but the warmth didn't reach her.
Kaisan, her little boy, played quietly on the carpet, building towers with wooden blocks. His eyes sparkled, but the loneliness in them was unmistakable.
Across the room, Lucas lounged in the armchair, newspaper in hand, glasses perched on his nose. He didn't glance at them. Not once.
Another day. Another reminder.
In her own home, Jay felt like a ghost.
Like a maid.
Like someone invisible.
Kaisan looked up at her with a hopeful smile.
"Mom… can we read a story?" he asked softly.
Jay forced a gentle smile back. "Of course, sweetheart. But don't make it fall, okay?"
Kaisan giggled and continued building, humming a tune she didn't recognize.
One afternoon, Kaisan's small voice trembled.
"Mom… Papa never plays with me," he said quietly, almost afraid she'd be angry.
Jay's chest tightened. She swallowed hard, looking toward Lucas, who muttered something under his breath without lifting his eyes:
"Stop spoiling him."
Jay's jaw tightened, but she crouched down to Kaisan's level and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Sweetheart… I know he doesn't. But that doesn't mean you're not loved. You are my world, Kaisan. Always remember that."
Kaisan looked at her with wide eyes.
"Always?" he asked.
"Always," she whispered, pulling him close.
He nestled into her shoulder, small hands clutching her tightly.
Later, as Jay prepared lunch in the kitchen, Kaisan followed her around, bouncing on his toes.
"Mom, can I help?" he asked.
Jay smiled, ruffling his hair. "Sure, but you have to be careful. The knife is sharp."
He nodded solemnly. "I'll be careful."
Lucas walked past the kitchen, glancing at the counter where Jay had laid out vegetables.
"Don't let him ruin anything," he said casually, returning to his study.
Jay froze for a moment, gripping the knife tighter.
"You hear that?" she said softly to Kaisan.
"I… I don't want to ruin anything," Kaisan whispered.
"You won't, baby," she reassured him. "You're learning, and mistakes are okay. Papa doesn't see that, but I do. I see everything you do."
Kaisan's eyes lit up slightly, the first spark of pride since morning.
That evening, after dinner, Jay sat beside Kaisan on the couch. He was curled into her lap, playing with a small car.
"Mom… do you think Papa even cares about me?" he asked suddenly, voice trembling.
Jay's chest ached. She stroked his hair softly.
"Sweetheart… he… he doesn't always show it. But that doesn't change the fact that you are loved. You're the most important person in my life. You always have been."
Kaisan sighed. "I wish he would play… just once."
Jay hugged him tighter. "I know, baby. I wish too. But we have each other, and that's what matters."
The next morning, Lucas was unusually irritable.
"Jay… make sure Kaisan's breakfast is ready before school," he barked.
"Yes, Lucas," she replied softly, her voice calm, controlled.
"Don't burn it this time," he muttered under his breath.
Jay clenched her teeth but nodded.
Kaisan tugged on her sleeve. "Mom… he's always mad at me."
"I know, baby," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "Don't take it to heart. You're perfect just the way you are."
At school, Kaisan struggled with homework, his frustration visible.
"Mom… I can't do this," he said, voice quivering.
Jay sat beside him. "You can, sweetheart. Look, let me show you. Sometimes it just needs a little patience."
They worked together quietly, Jay guiding him through the steps, encouraging, praising each small success.
Back at home, Lucas lounged in the living room, reviewing documents on his laptop. He barely noticed Jay bringing Kaisan his backpack.
"Here, baby," she said gently.
Kaisan looked up at her. "Mom… why doesn't Papa ever notice what I do?"
Jay knelt, holding his small hands. "He notices, Kaisan. He just… doesn't know how to show it. But that's okay. We'll keep learning. You and I, together."
Days passed in the same pattern.
Jay working tirelessly, Lucas distant, Kaisan growing under her care but missing something crucial—his father's affection.
One evening, she watched Kaisan asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling.
"He doesn't know what he's missing," she whispered softly.
"He will one day, maybe. But until then… I will give him everything I have."
She looked at her reflection in the kitchen window.
Her face was tired, eyes shadowed.
Yet in her heart, a fire burned.
A fire for her child.
A fire for herself.
A fire that refused to break, no matter how cold Lucas's absence of love made her feel.
And so, day after day, Jay carried the weight of a household that barely acknowledged her.
She cleaned. She cooked. She protected. She loved.
Her child thrived in her arms, even if the world ignored them.
"Mom…" Kaisan's voice broke her thoughts.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do you think Papa will ever care?"
Jay kissed his forehead. "Maybe one day… but until then, we have each other. And that's everything."
That night, she lay awake, listening to his breathing, thinking of the life they had, the sacrifices she made, the love she poured into him.
Her hands rested on his small shoulders as sleep finally claimed them both.
In that quiet darkness, Jay made a promise to herself:
No matter what, no matter how cold or distant Lucas became, she would always protect Kaisan.
She would give him the love he deserved.
She would be his world, because she could not count on anyone else.
And though her life felt like servitude, though her heart ached from neglect, though Lucas never lifted a hand or whispered a word of affection…
Jay refused to break.
She refused to let Kaisan feel unloved.
And in the small quiet moments—laughing softly, brushing his hair, holding him close—Jay found the fragments of joy that made life bearable.
That kept her going.
That reminded her that no matter what, she and Kaisan would survive.