Mark sifted through them quietly, then carried the box to the nursery. He took out the photo, looked at baby Leo sleeping peacefully, and smiled.

He placed the picture in a drawer.
“I’m not her son anymore,” he murmured. “I’m his father now.”

And that was the truth.
The past no longer defined him. The cycle had ended.

What Family Really Means

Love isn’t about blood or tradition. It’s about choice — the courage to protect what’s good, even when it means standing against what’s familiar.

That day in the backyard, everything Diane tried to destroy became the very thing that made us stronger.
Because sometimes, peace doesn’t come from keeping the family together — it comes from choosing the right one.

And that’s what we did.
We chose us.