Then, my father called. He said he was offering me one chance to come back. When he arrived the next day, he criticized our life, offering to provide for us in ways Lucas never could. But I refused. “We have everything we need,” I said.
He left, and for hours, I watched from the window. But then, he returned. His face streaked with tears, he said, “I was wrong. I thought I was protecting you, but I pushed you away. You’ve built something beautiful.”
His apology melted my heart. I pulled him into a hug. “I missed you, Dad.”
When the triplets entered the room and called him “Grandpa,” I saw the beginning of something new between us. Not perfect, but a chance to rebuild. Hope filled the space between us, and I knew we would find our way back.