When I turned 65, I threw a party for the family, but no one came. That same day, my daughter-in-law posted photos of everyone on a cruise. I just smiled. When they came back, I handed her a DNA test that made her go pale… My son doesn’t deserve that shrew…

She’d disappeared again, just as she had from David’s life seven years ago, but this time she’d left the children behind. The transition hadn’t been easy. Tommy had been confused and heartbroken by his mother’s sudden absence.

Despite all her manipulations, Emma had been clingy and anxious, afraid that more people she loved would disappear. There had been tears, tantrums, and sleepless nights for all of us, but there had also been healing. Elliot had moved back into the house he’d shared with Meadow, but everything felt different now.

The oppressive atmosphere of secrets and walking on eggshells was gone. David had rented an apartment just 10 minutes away, close enough to be part of daily life, but far enough to give everyone space to adjust. Grandma, Tommy said, tugging on my apron, can I tell you a secret? I knelt down to his level.

Of course you can. He cupped his hands around his mouth and whispered, I’m glad you found Daddy Dave. Now I have the most daddies of anyone in my class.

My heart squeezed with love for this resilient little boy, who’d turned a complicated situation into a source of pride. I’m glad too, sweetheart, and I’m glad Mommy Meadow went away, he added more quietly. She was always mad about something.

It broke my heart that a seven-year-old had been so aware of the tension in his household, but it also reassured me that we’d made the right choices, children knew more than adults gave them credit for, and Tommy had sensed his mother’s manipulation, even if he couldn’t name it. During dinner, the conversation flowed naturally between the adults, while the children chattered about school and friends. David told us about Tommy’s latest soccer game, where he’d scored his first goal.

Elliot shared Emma’s excitement about starting dance classes. We talked like the family we’d become, unconventional maybe, but real in a way that Meadows’ carefully orchestrated version had never been. I got a call from my lawyer yesterday, Elliot said as we cleared the dinner plates.

The divorce is finally final. How do you feel about that? I asked. He was quiet for a moment, watching Tommy help David load the dishwasher.

Relieved mostly, and grateful that it’s over without more damage to the kids. Any regrets? About ending the marriage? No. About not seeing the truth sooner.

He shrugged. I think I’ll always regret that. How much time we lost.

How much pain she caused you especially. I squeezed his shoulder. You can’t blame yourself for trusting someone you loved.

That’s not a character flaw, Elliot. That’s just being human. David joined us at the counter, drying his hands on a dish towel.

Has there been any word from her? Nothing, Elliot said. Her lawyer said she doesn’t want any contact with the children. No visitation, no phone calls, nothing.

That’s probably for the best, I said, though it still amazed me that any mother could walk away so completely from her children. At least this way the kids can heal without worrying about when she might disrupt their lives again. Later, after the children had fallen asleep watching a movie in the living room, the three adults sat around my kitchen table with coffee and leftover pie.

These had become some of my favorite moments. Quiet conversations in the evening light, planning for the future, talking through the challenges of co-parenting in such an unusual situation. I’ve been thinking about something, David said, stirring sugar into his coffee, about Tommy’s last name.

Elliot looked up sharply. What about it? He’s been Patterson his whole life. That’s his identity, his school records, everything…