I’ve carried our home on my back for years, quietly, without fanfare. All I ever wanted was for Brad to meet me halfway. To care, not just in the happy moments, but in the hard ones. To show our boys what real fatherhood looks like.
And for once, I thought maybe — just maybe — Father’s Day could be different.
Weeks ahead, Jake and Tommy were bursting with anticipation. They whispered plans in their room, hiding drawings under the bed and begging me to help make breakfast.
“Let’s surprise him with pancakes!” Jake beamed.
