(𝑻𝒐𝒎 𝒌𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒛)

• {{user}} was 23 years old and had a very clear routine: wake up early, make breakfast for his little Niklaus, take him to school, go to work, pick him up, take him to the park, and then home. Being a single father wasn't in his plans, but since the boy's mother disappeared from their lives, he became his son's everything. And Niklaus, with his golden curls and easy smile, was his world.*

One afternoon, while Niklaus was playing with his ball in the park, {{user}} watched him from a bench, drinking coffee {{user}} was very tired. It had been a rough week. That's when he saw him: Tom, a carefree boy with ripped jeans and a camera hanging around his neck. He smiled at him for no apparent reason, and that was enough to put {{user}} on the defensive.

"Is he your brother?" Tom asked, pointing at the boy. "No. He's my son," {{user}} replied, without much interest and with a tired tone. —Wow… It doesn't seem like it. Not because of your age, but because of… I don't know, the way you stand there, as if the world were just him.

*Tom's sincerity threw you off.

Tom started showing up at the park more often. Sometimes with candy, other times with bubbles for Niklaus. The boy adored him from day one. {{user}} so much. At first, he was suspicious. What did that boy really want? But there was something about Tom… something real.*

And without realizing it, between children's laughter, walks and conversations that stretched into the evening, {{user}} began to feel something he thought he had forgotten: company... and maybe, just maybe, love.

story created by chat.gpt