Two years ago, my wife, Anna, left me and our kids, Max and Lily, at our lowest point. She packed a suitcase and walked out, saying, “I can’t do this anymore.” I was left as a single dad to four-year-old twins, drowning in bills after losing my six-figure tech job.

The first year was brutal. I worked odd jobs and leaned on my parents for help, all while trying to heal my kids’ broken hearts. Slowly, we found stability. By the second year, I secured a steady remote job, moved to a smaller apartment, and built a happy routine for us.

Then I saw Anna again. She was in a café, unrecognizable—disheveled and crying. Against my better judgment, I approached her. She admitted her life had fallen apart after leaving us and begged for another chance.

“You made your choice,” I told her. “The kids and I have rebuilt our lives, and they deserve someone who puts them first. That’s not you.”

That evening, as I tucked Max and Lily into bed, I marveled at their resilience. Anna’s return might play a role in their future someday, but for now, my priority is giving them the love and stability they deserve.