They laugh, and I let myself sink into the moment. Just for now. Just for them.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, Trish’s voice echoes: "Start documenting. Use your access while you still have it."
And I will.
I’m just not surewhatto do with all of it. The advice. The plan. The cold calculations
Because Kyle,God help me, Kyle is a good dad.
Not perfect, no. He misses things. He shows up for five minutes and then disappears behind a work call. But heshows up. He knows Levi’s meds by heart. He remembers Jemma’s love for all things space. He brings home sketch pads for Iris without being asked.
And I can’t believe I’m saying that like it’s a bad thing. Like consistency should feel like manipulation. Like effort should make me feel small.
But it does. Because every time he remembers a parent-teacher conference or kisses them on the head before bed, it’s like he’s stacking stones on a scale I can’t control. Like he’s quietly building his case without knowing thereisa case.
So yeah, Kyle’s a good dad. And that makes this a thousand times harder.
Because I know the court won't care about the years I felt alone, or the silence between us at night, or how much I cried in the shower after pretending everything was fine for the kids.
And Kyle will havejust enoughon record to look golden.
He showed up for thebigevents, recitals, birthdays, picnics, but I was the one who did everything in between. I picked them up from school. I packed lunches. I chased down teachers and insurance companies.
But that’s not what people remember.
The moms at school practically worship him. They see a man who shows up in a pressed shirt, who remembers which kid is allergic to what, and they act like he’s a hero. A god among distracted fathers.
Meanwhile, it’s expected of me to handle everything else alone.
Allthey’llsee is a dad who showed up... and a mom who left for a month.
And in court, that’s all it will take.
Which means I can’t afford to be sentimental. Not anymore.
Chapter Sixteen
Kyle ~July, 2024
“Dad!”
I jolt awake to the sound of three pairs of feet thundering into the bedroom. Iris is already halfway onto the bed. Jemma’s right behind her, and Levi's holding a plate dangerously close to tipping.
Looking at the time, I’m shocked to see it’s barely 6 a.m. Usually Jackie lets me sleep in on my day.
“Happy Birthday, Dad!” they all shout at once.
“Thanks, guys,” I say, sitting up with a yawn and a dull headache humming behind my eyes.
“Dad, we made you breakfast!” Iris says, thrusting a plate toward me. Scrambled eggs and toast, burnt at the edges, but still warm.
“Yum,” I say, grinning and making a big show of taking each bite like its gourmet. They giggle every time I groan dramatically and say, “So good.”
Levi sits on the bed, hoisting a shopping bag beside him. “We got you gifts, too!”
The bag is set in front of me. Smiling, I begin digging through the tissue paper. The first thing I pull out is a box. It takes every ounce of strength to keep the smile on my face.
“It’s a gutter cleaner,” Levi says proudly. “It’s the latest model.”