I never imagined my wife would ask me to leave our three-year-old daughter — or that her reason would change everything I thought I knew about our family.
My name is Jake, I’m 32, and my whole world revolves around my little girl, Allie. She’s three — curious, full of energy, and completely inseparable from me. I’m the one she calls for when she wakes up, the one who tucks her in at night. She’s my shadow, my sidekick, my reason for getting up every morning.
Our days have a rhythm — pancake breakfasts, walks to the park, laughter on the swings as she shouts, “Higher, Daddy!” Evenings mean blanket forts and bedtime stories. For me, that was happiness.
But lately, my wife Sarah had been different. Her smiles faded, her tone tightened, and one night she blurted out, “She doesn’t love me like she loves you.”
I told her that wasn’t true, that Allie adored her. I even suggested they spend more time together, but she brushed it off. The distance between us kept growing — not just between Sarah and Allie, but between Sarah and me.
Then one night, after we’d put Allie to bed, Sarah said those dreaded words: “We need to talk.”
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