I thought I had the best support system in raising my son, but when they turned on me and tried to throw me under the bus, I had to defend myself. My efforts, however, were for nothing, because karma was already setting things straight in the background.
I raised my son alone for ten years. I was there when his first tooth fell out, the first time he rode a bicycle, and I helped him potty train. But all my love and efforts almost fell apart when his grandma told him a horrendous lie.
My name’s Tyler, and I never thought I’d be a single dad by the age of 24. Back in college, I met Anna, the kind of woman who turned heads with her confidence and wore ambition like perfume. She drew me in with how wild she was.
Anna talked about backpacking across Asia and running her own company before thirty. I fell for her fast and hard, even though I knew she wasn’t the “picket fence” type and never planned to settle down.
When she told me she was pregnant, I was stunned. She wasn’t. I think she smiled the whole time, like it was some kind of philosophical thought experiment.
“Are you keeping it?” I asked cautiously.
“I don’t know,” she replied, twisting a strand of hair. “I’m not sure I’m meant to be a mom.”
But she did. At least, for a while.
I, on the other hand, was terrified but ready. I wanted to be a father.
When Harrison was born, Anna tried. She really did. But her spirit, that restless spark, couldn’t be contained by diapers and midnight bottle feeds. I watched her grow more distant each day, like she was physically present but emotionally boarding a plane.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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