When we returned home, George was waiting for us, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. He hadn’t expected me to take such a bold step. I could tell he was grappling with the realization that he had underestimated me.
“Where were you?” he demanded, trying to regain control.
“We went to the beach,” I replied evenly. “And during that time, I realized something important. Being a parent isn’t about being perfect or comparing myself to Miranda. It’s about being there for the kids, supporting them, and loving them unconditionally.”
George opened his mouth to argue, but I continued, “I love Nick and Emma as if they were my own, and nothing you say can change that. I’ve been there for them through every scraped knee, every school play, and every bedtime story. And I’ll continue to be there.”
