My son didn’t say it like a joke.
He didn’t say it for attention.
He said it the way a child says something when they’ve been carrying it alone for too long.
“Daddy… Grandpa comes when you’re not here.”
I work nights sometimes. Not because I love it, but because it pays the bills.
And for weeks, my son had been begging me not to go.
At first I told myself it was separation anxiety. A phase. A kid being a kid.
Then he started refusing to sleep.
Then he started flinching when certain footsteps crossed our hallway.
Then he started asking me questions no seven-year-old should ever need to ask.
So I made one decision that changed everything.
I called in sick.
I stayed home.
I didn’t announce it. I didn’t argue. I didn’t accuse anyone.
I stayed silent… and I watched.
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