On the way up the stairs, I paused to look at the many photos that lined the wall, almost all of them of Stevie, from her first day of school to her graduation, and photos of her on her birthday—well, our birthday.The one that got my attention had Stevie, Dad, and me in it. We must have been about 4 years old, and one of us was perched on each of his knees and smiling. I wished I could have gone with my Dad and Stevie when they left, but my mom wouldn’t let both of us go. Truth be told, she only wanted to keep one of us so Dad had to pay her child support.Stevie noticed I had stopped following her up the stairs, and she came back down and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. She knew it was hard for me to see the photos. She had a happy childhood and a loving parent. I had neither.“He never stopped loving you, and he talked about you all the time.”“Then why did he never fight for me? He never came back once after you left,
Last Updated : 2021-07-27 Read more