I never tried to replace him. I just showed up. Every single day. Every milestone, every school moment, every nightmare. I was the steady person in her life — the lunches, the sick days, the preschool events. Eventually she started calling me “Daddy,” and it fit us both.
For years, life felt stable.
She stopped calling me Daddy. Not because her feelings changed — but because she was trying to keep everyone calm. It hurt in a way I never said out loud, but I didn’t push her. I just kept showing up like always.
And then her text came.
When we got home that night, she went straight to her room. Zahra asked what happened, but all I could say was, “She wanted to come home.”
This morning, over pancakes, Amira finally told us why.
Jamal introduced her to a girlfriend she’d never heard of. The couple spent the entire time kissing, like they were in some cheesy movie. Then they had a loud argument that shook the walls. The girlfriend even called Amira by the wrong name — twice.
That was enough for her.
Later that day, while we were working on her school project, she asked me, “Why didn’t you ever leave?”
It hit harder than anything. I told her the truth — that I stayed because I wanted to, because loving her had never been conditional.
By Monday, my name in her phone had changed to “Dad.”
I thought that was the end — a quiet win.
But life had another twist.
That Friday, Zahra received a notice from Jamal’s lawyer: he wanted joint custody — holidays, medical decisions, school decisions, everything.Continue reading…
