“I Bought My Daughter the Cake She’d Dreamed About for Weeks — and That Was the Last Normal Moment”

needed to hear, but it was a start.

Adam took longer. He didn’t apologize—not really—but he did send a text three weeks later: “Oliver is seeing a counselor. Jenna and I are working on discipline strategies. Can we talk?”

We met for coffee without the kids. It was awkward at first, both of us circling the real conversation.

Finally, I said, “I need you continue reading …