My Stepdaughter Locked Me out of the House – Then I Found Out Why

“You were broken, too. I saw it. But you never let me see you fall apart because you thought you had to hold it together for me.”

“You needed me to…”

“I needed you to take care of yourself, too.” Her voice cracked.

“But you never did. You worked double shifts. You drove me everywhere.

You paid for everything. You put off doctor’s appointments and haircuts and every single thing you wanted because you were too busy making sure I had everything I needed.”

I reached for her hand. “You’re my kid.

That’s what parents do.”

“Exactly.” She squeezed back. “You’re my Mom. Not by law.

Not by blood. By choice. Every single day, you chose me.”

She pulled me toward the salon entrance.

“What are we doing here?” I urged, puzzled.

“You’ve been putting off a haircut for eight months.

And you mentioned wanting a facial once, like three years ago. So I booked both. Before we fly out in five hours.”

“Five hours?”

“The tickets are for the coast.

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