The sound of footsteps pulled me from my reverie. Tiffany stood in the doorway, a mix of hesitation and regret shadowing her features. “Dad,” she began, her voice softer now, “I didn’t mean for it to come to this.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the little girl she once was. The one who had clung to my hand on her first day of school, the teenager who had cried on my shoulder after her first heartbreak. How had I lost her to someone like Harry?

“Tiffany, you and Harry deserve your own space, your own life. I don’t fit into this picture anymore.” My voice was steady, a resolve settling in my chest. “I think it’s best if I leave.”