To spare me the pain, he vanished, cared for by a kind nurse named Laura, who later became Daniel’s mother.
He passed shortly after Daniel was born.
For decades I believed I’d been left, unloved.
But the truth was heartbreaking and beautiful — Mark’s last act of love was to protect me.
My daughter, thankfully, wasn’t related to Daniel.
Their love was real, untouched by the past.
And when I watched them dance at their wedding months later, I realized Mark had found a way back into my life — through the son he left behind, who now called me family. Sometimes love doesn’t die.
It just takes another path home.
