After my parents divorced, Dad promised nothing would change but it did.
Once he married Jane, her three kids became his world, and I was pushed aside.
Weekends were canceled, birthdays forgotten, and I became just “Pumpkin” on his call log.
No more bedtime stories, no more quality time ust empty excuses and silence.
I tried to stay hopeful, even bought concert tickets for us with babysitting money.
But he bailed again for Emma’s room makeover. When I fractured my arm, he never came; Jane’s kid had a check-up. He always had reasons, and I was always expected to understand…
