The part that remembered what she had felt while loving her once wondered if refusing Jacob the chance to know her father would only create a new injury.
After weeks of introspection, I accepted a supervised meeting in a nearby park. Jacob was playing on the swings while I stood guard. He was shy at first, hiding behind me, but when Mark gently pushed the swing, Jacob laughed – a clear, innocent laugh that awakened something deep in me.
Over time, I have allowed more visits. Mark never missed one. Good weather, bad weather, he was present – sometimes with a little book or toy, without ever exaggerating, just trying to be present. Little by little, Jacob began to trust him.
I still couldn’t forgive Mark completely. The scars were too deep. But seeing my son’s face light up, I understood something: it was no longer about me. It was about giving Jacob the choice to know his father.
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