The breaking point came during the holidays in 2024.
Julian informed me I was no longer invited to Christmas dinner because, as Tiffany put it, “the atmosphere needed less tension this year.”
I spent Christmas alone in the quiet house Eleanor once filled with warmth. Her chair sat empty. The rooms felt larger than they had ever felt before. I kept thinking about all the holidays I had worked extra shifts so Julian could have gifts under the tree.
On New Year’s Eve, despite everything, I convinced myself reconciliation might still be possible.
Just before midnight, I walked the short distance to Julian’s brightly lit house. I intended only to wish them peace for the coming year. Even after all the humiliation, some part of me still wanted to be his father.