I found healing. Weeks later, Claire called. She was exhausted. Alone. Her husband wasn’t helping, and she was barely holding on. She cried and admitted, “I didn’t want to become you. But now I understand what it cost you to be strong.” Two days later, she moved back in—with Jacob. We’re rebuilding. Slowly. She comes to church with me. Maya joins us for Sunday lunch. And there’s a man in the choir—gentle and kind—who chats with Claire after the service. Nothing serious. Just safe,

steady kindness. I rock Jacob in the same chair I once rocked her in. And as he sleeps, I whisper: “You’ll never know how hard she fought for you. But one day, I hope you understand. The greatest thing I taught your mama wasn’t how to be perfect—but how to survive with love still in your hands.”