I thought she’d come around. But I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love my son the way I do.”
They were divorced by the end of that month. Alex never asked where Wendy went or why she stopped coming around.
They’d never truly bonded.
To him, she had always been someone hovering on the edges of his world. What mattered was that one afternoon, Matthew picked him up and took him to a smaller house — one with scuffed floors, mismatched curtains, and a backyard full of possibility.
“Daddy, does this mean I can come over now?” he asked, his eyes wide with hope. Matthew smiled and pulled him close.
“No, buddy.
This means we live together now.”
And that was all Alex needed. Their evenings soon filled with laughter — building blanket forts, racing toy cars, burning grilled cheese sandwiches. Real laughter echoed through every room, the kind that made a house feel like home again.
Sometimes, the camera doesn’t lie.
Sometimes, it shows you what love isn’t. And sometimes, it helps you see what love truly is.
