My daughter, Maisie, clung to me after I stepped out briefly, her eyes puffy from fear since her mom, Lana, left three months ago. A quick porch trip triggered her panic—her mom’s abrupt departure after a minute’s goodbye left scars. I held her, dodging her question, “Is Mommy coming back?” with, “Daddy’s not going anywhere.” She later revealed Lana said she loved her but “loves the world more,” a revelation that stunned me.
Lana, a free spirit dreaming of travel, left to find herself, never calling back. I built a stable life with Maisie—remote work, a single parents’ group—while she processed the loss, even drawing planes and asking for a suitcase. At a park, she explained to a friend that her mom might get lost again, but I wouldn’t.
A letter from Lana apologized, sending a seashell bracelet, but she stayed in Morocco. We met briefly; Maisie stayed close, saying she’s whole with me. Months later, with new friend Tessa, life felt lighter. Maisie’s resilience and my steadfast love became our strength, proving staying power outlasts fleeting promises.
