My dad saw me limping down the street with my baby and groceries and asked, “Where’s your car?” When I whispered, “His mom took it… said I’m lucky they let me stay,” Dad didn’t argue. He opened the door and said, “Get in. We’re fixing this tonight

me. She doesn’t like when I take Evan to see my friends. She says I ‘parade him around.’ If I’m on my phone too much, she says I’m neglecting him.”

Dad’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “And Derek?”

My mouth went dry. “He tells me to ignore her. But he never… actually stops her.”

That was the most honest sentence I’d said in months.

Dad shut off continue reading …