As for me? I turned back toward the laughter spilling from the reception hall. Toward Ethan. Toward Dan. Toward the people who had always been there.
I realized then that the bond of fatherhood isn’t written in a blood test. It’s written in the late-night homework help, the ice cream on the porch, and the steady hand that guides you through the storms. Blood doesn’t make a father. Love does.
As Dan appeared at my side, eyes soft, he took my hand and said, “Now, let’s get you back to your wedding, kiddo.” And for the first time in my life, I felt completely whole.
