The drive home from daycare was my calm place—until my five-year-old shattered it.
“Can we invite my real dad to Father’s Day dinner?” Lily asked from the back seat, calm as ever. She said another man visited when I was at work, bringing chocolates and whispering secrets with her mother.
I didn’t confront Sarah. I waited. On Father’s Day I set the table for four. When the doorbell rang, a stranger stood there with a gift bag. Lily ran into his arms, calling him daddy.
Behind me, something shattered—and so did the life I thought I knew.
