It was supposed to be a quiet Saturday: coffee, breakfast, and a quick grocery run. But one sentence from a stranger’s child shattered everything I thought I knew about my life.
I’m 35, and that morning I woke up feeling as if life had finally settled into something good.
For the first time in years, things were… simple and normal.
Little did I know that something that would turn my world upside down was just around the corner.
I rolled out of bed before the sun crept through the blinds, careful not to wake my girlfriend.
Jessica had curled herself into a burrito of blankets, her dark hair a tangled mess on the pillow, and one leg half-hanging off the bed.
Still, she stirred when she smelled coffee and the breakfast I had made.
“Hey,” she mumbled, half-asleep, face smashed against the pillow. “Don’t forget the turkey and cheese.”
I smiled. “I won’t.”
“I wanna make sandwiches for lunch.
Get the good kind. The shaved turkey, not that thick weird stuff you always bring home.”
“I got it, I got it,” I said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Shaved turkey.
Cheese. Anything else?”
“Mmmm, pickles.”
That was it. Just a quiet Saturday morning.
Coffee, a quick breakfast, and a grocery run.
Jessica had wanted to sleep in, and I didn’t mind playing the errand boy.
I threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, and headed out.
There was nothing unusual about the grocery store.
It was the same place we always went. I picked up a basket and started moving through the aisles as if I were on autopilot.
Bread, turkey, cheese, pickles.
I had just passed the cereal section when I remembered we were almost out of coffee filters.
I doubled back and made a mental note to grab chips on the way out.
I was in line at checkout, my basket half-full and balanced awkwardly against my hip, when I heard it.
A small voice, loud enough to cut through the hum of beeping scanners and grocery bag rustling.
I froze.
My first thought was that the kid was just saying something random — kids do that all the time. But something about his tone stopped me.
It was so certain. Not a joke or imagination, but certainty.
I turned slowly.
Behind me stood a woman and a little boy, maybe seven years old. The boy was staring at me with wide, curious eyes and an innocent wonder that made my stomach twist.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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