For my 55th birthday, my stepdaughter Emily surprised me with a sleek red convertible. This gesture was especially unexpected, considering the somewhat strained nature of our relationship.
Since her father David’s passing, our interactions had been polite but distant, more out of obligation than genuine connection.
That evening, Emily invited me to dinner and handed me the car keys with a mechanical, rather than warm, tone, saying, “Happy birthday. This is for you.”
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