How To Explain Dad And Mommy Divorce To A 5-Year-Old?

People always say that every woman pales in comparison when a man's first love comes begging to reconcile.Noelle Xanthos suffers a huge defeat—she marries Quentin Lowe with a heart full of love, but all she gets in return is a heart that's ripped to shreds.Three years later, she's Collinview City's most renowned specialist in blood diseases, and she's got a pretty face to boot.She has different men in her life—one's a handsome older gentleman who's caring and considerate, while the other's an arrogant, wild younger man who's determined to win her heart.Life is good.During a lively party, Dragfort City's most eligible bachelor—also known as Quentin—pins her to a deserted corner. His eyes are red as he says, "Have you had enough fun? If you have, it's time to come home with me!"

It didn't end when my husband brought back his ex to our house and made it publicly known that he wanted to divorce me. It all ended when he refused to save our daughter who was dying. When I asked him for the divorce papers, he thought that it was just a joke and expected me to be at his door pleading after a few days, but the news spread fast about my new romance with a wealthy surgeon. He realized that he wasn't ready to lose me and that he's made a big mistake by trusting his ex, but it was too late! FILLED WITH REGRET AND PAIN, HER EX-HUSBAND SOUGHT FOR A WAY TO RUIN HER NEW RELATIONSHIP AND WIN HER BACK, WOULD SHE GIVE HIM A SECOND CHANCE IF HE SUCCEEDS?

On her anniversary, Evelyn is diagnosed with cancer—only to come home and find her husband cheating with their son’s teacher. Worse, her little boy calls the other woman “Mommy” and calls Evelyn “a bad woman.” Abandoned by the man she loved and the child she raised, Evelyn signs the divorce papers with tears in her eyes. Just when she’s ready to give up, a strange little girl calls her “Mom”—and her father, Nicholas, offers the warmth Evelyn thought she’d never feel again. She lost everything. Will fate give her one last chance?

Ever since I find out that my CEO husband, Rowan Goodwin, is incapable of letting his first love, Megan Dolton—who's divorced and has a child of her own—go, I begin teaching our son, Ryan Goodwin, to address Rowan as "Mr. Goodwin" all the time. When Ryan is burning up with a fever, Megan chooses to summon Rowan away from us in the middle of the night. As I caress Ryan's scalding forehead, I instruct him to tell Rowan, "Goodbye, Mr. Goodwin." When Rowan has agreed to attend the teacher-parent conference with Ryan, Megan calls him with tears streaking down her cheeks, claiming that her own son, Nelson Herrera, doesn't have a father to accompany him. So, Rowan doesn't hesitate to ditch us once again. Without bothering to raise my head, I pass my phone to Ryan so that he can take leave for "Mr. Goodwin" in the parents' group chat. Every time, Ryan always hesitates for a long time before carrying out my orders. Later on, Rowan finally realizes that he has owed us far too much. So, he takes the initiative to suggest that we take a family portrait together. When we reach the photography studio, Megan calls Rowan once again. Her sobs can be heard drifting from the loudspeaker. "Rowan, can you please come over and pick Nelson up from school? The children at the kindergarten keep making fun of him for not having a father…" Pity crosses Rowan's expression immediately. He's about to crouch down and explain to Ryan when the latter just waves airily at him without me having to nudge him. "It's fine, Mr. Goodwin. You should accompany the other child. Mommy and I are the only ones needed for the family portrait."

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

I woke up staring at divorce papers—from the guy I'd crushed on all through college. My name. His. Right there on the page. He said I cheated. Last thing I remembered? Getting ready to finally tell him how I felt at our graduation party. Now suddenly, we've got a four-year-old. And him? He looked at me like I was some rando off the street. No trace of the sweet, soft guy I used to know. Just ice. What did I miss? What the hell happened in the last five years?