Ronaldo sat with his back turned, shoulders slumped, tail resting limply on the floor. Just moments ago, he had been close to Mom, expecting the same warm lap he always loved. But today, Mom lifted only Selena, pulling her gently onto her lap while Ronaldo was left behind.
He felt it instantly.
His head lowered, and his eyes avoided the scene behind him. He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry loudly. Instead, sadness wrapped around him quietly, heavier than any tantrum. His small hands picked at the floor as if pretending not to care, though his heart said otherwise.
From the corner of his eye, Ronaldo watched Mom stroke Selena’s head, whispering softly. Each gentle touch felt like a sting. His lips trembled, but he swallowed the feeling, choosing silence over noise. Being ignored hurt more than being scolded.
He shifted his body slightly farther away, sitting backward on purpose, hoping Mom would notice. See me too. But Mom was focused on Selena, calming her, unaware of the jealousy growing behind her back.
Ronaldo’s chest tightened. He hugged his knees, rocking once, then stopping. Tears gathered, but he blinked them away quickly. He didn’t want to beg. He just wanted fairness. He wanted to feel chosen.
After a long moment, Mom finally glanced up and noticed the quiet figure turned away. Her heart sank. She saw the sadness in Ronaldo’s posture, the way his back curved inward like he was protecting something fragile.
She reached out and called his name softly.
Ronaldo hesitated. He didn’t turn right away. Then slowly, he looked back, eyes glossy, questioning. Mom opened her free arm without words. That was enough.
He crawled over and leaned into her side, still not fully facing her, but close enough to feel warmth. Mom kissed his head, holding both babies now.
The jealousy faded. The sadness softened.
Ronaldo didn’t need to be first. He just needed to know he still mattered.
