part 2
Paid bills.
Went to parent-teacher meetings.
Sat through school concerts, doctor visits, sports games, and long nights when one of them woke up missing their parents.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped dating.
Not because I didn’t want love.
There simply wasn’t room for anything except them.
Mason and Noah came first.
Always.
The years passed faster than I expected.
One day, they were small boys holding my hands.
Then suddenly, they were taller than me, nearly grown, and preparing to step into adulthood.
I was proud of them.
Prouder than words could ever explain.
But sometimes, quietly, I wondered whether giving up so much of myself had truly mattered.
Then their eighteenth birthday arrived.
I planned a small celebration at home.
Nothing fancy.
Just homemade food, a cake, and the people who had watched us survive those thirteen years together.
The evening felt perfect.
We laughed.
Shared old memories.
Celebrated the young men they had become.
I thought the night would end with candles, photos, and hugs.
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