I was elbow-deep in dishwater when Owen’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, his face going pale.

“It’s Claire,” he muttered.

My stomach dropped.

Claire, Owen’s ex-wife, hadn’t contacted us in years. She was controlling and had never allowed Owen to have pets when they were married.

I dried my hands and moved closer as he answered.

“Hello?” he said cautiously.

I couldn’t hear Claire’s side, but Owen’s expressions told me everything. His eyebrows shot up, then furrowed.

“They want to… really?” he said. “Yeah, of course.”

When he hung up, Owen turned to me, eyes wide. “The kids want to see me.”

I hugged him, feeling a mix of hope and fear. “That’s wonderful, but why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

Owen sighed. “Claire insists on visiting first to ‘check things out’ before the kids come over.”

An irritated woman pointing her finger | Source: Amomama

I felt a surge of anger. “She doesn’t get to dictate—”

“I know,” he said gently. “But if it means seeing my kids, I’ll jump through whatever hoops I have to.”

The next few days were a whirlwind of cleaning. Our son, Ethan, sensed the tension, asking why we were “making everything so fancy.”

When the doorbell rang that Saturday morning, we exchanged a look. Owen opened the door, revealing Claire, perfectly coiffed and smug.

“Owen,” she said, her voice dripping with false warmth. “It’s been too long.”

As she stepped inside, her facade cracked. “What’s this sofa made of? My kids can’t lie on that. Throw it away.”

I bit my tongue. Then Buddy, our golden retriever, bounded in, followed by Mr. Whiskers, our cat.

Claire screeched, “You have a cat and a dog?! Get rid of them, or no kids in this house!”

My cheeks flushed, but Owen stepped forward. “You’re not going to tell us what to get rid of, especially not our pets.”

Claire crossed her arms. “I’m their mother!”

“And I’m their father,” Owen replied. “Guess what? They’re coming here to visit their family. You’re not in charge.”

She scrambled for control. “Fine, but my kids won’t stay in a house with pets. It’s my way or nothing.”

I found my voice. “If you’re going to make this difficult, maybe we should get the courts involved.”

Claire looked nervous for the first time. “Fine, but if they get sick because of your animals, it’s on you!”

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door.

Owen and I stood in stunned silence before he pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”

The week leading up to the kids’ visit was tense. Claire called constantly, trying to make Owen cave.

Finally, the day arrived. Claire’s car pulled up, and two kids got out, looking uncertain. Owen’s daughter, Lily, now 13, had her mother’s hair but Owen’s eyes. Twelve-year-old Max looked just like Owen.

Claire got out last, smug. “Remember, if anything makes you uncomfortable, just call me.”

Owen’s jaw clenched, but he kept his cool. “Hey guys, I’m so glad you’re here.”

The first hour was awkward. The kids sat stiffly, eyeing Buddy and Mr. Whiskers. Ethan broke the ice by inviting Max to play, and soon a conversation started when Lily noticed our Harry Potter books.

As the day wore on, I noticed how Lily pulled her hand back from Buddy and how Max avoided the couch. It came to a head when Owen suggested we watch a movie.

Lily said, “Mom said we shouldn’t sit on your couch.”

Max blurted, “Mom said you care more about your new family than us.”

Owen knelt at eye level. “What your mom told you isn’t true. I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“Then why didn’t you try to see us?” Lily asked.

“I tried, but your mom made it difficult. I’m sorry.”

As Owen connected with his children, there were tears, questions, laughter, and finally hugs.

When Claire’s car pulled up again, the goodbyes were bittersweet. After they left, Owen and I collapsed on the couch.

That’s when his phone rang. It was Claire.

This time, there was no trepidation in Owen’s eyes as he answered. “Hello?”

“So,” Claire said, uncertainty in her voice. “The kids want to know when they can come over again.”

Owen and I exchanged smiles.

“What about next weekend?” Owen suggested.

“Fine. I’ll drop them off.”

As Owen hung up, I chuckled. “Look at that! Claire, asking permission instead of making demands.”