He told Carter stories of his father as a boy—adventures, and mischief that made my little boy giggle. For the first time in months, I felt like we had something we’d lost: family. Still, the shadow of my ex lingered.
I’d heard whispers through mutual friends that he’d fled town, broke and angry, leaving behind nothing but debt. Part of me wanted closure, but a bigger part of me knew he’d made his choice. One evening, as I tucked Carter into bed, he looked up at me with sleepy eyes.
“Mom, do you think Grandpa’s lonely?”
I glanced toward the hallway, where Mr. Harrington sat in his armchair, staring at a photo of his late wife. My throat tightened.
“Maybe a little, sweetie. But I think we’re helping with that.”
From the doorway, Mr. Harrington’s voice broke the quiet.
“You’re doing more than you know.”
Source: amomama
