I met him at a small café.
His gaze was cold, his words sharper than I remembered.
"You think you can handle this life alone?" he sneered.
I took a deep breath.
"I may be alone, but I am not weak."
He smirked, unconvinced.
"You're still just a mother. Nothing more."
A fire ignited inside me.
I would prove him wrong.
"I may be a mother," I said steadily, "but I am also a woman who can build her own life."
He leaned back, silent for a moment.
I realized something important: it wasn't about convincing him.
It was about convincing myself.