After Mason moved in with his father, I tried to give him the space he’d asked for, believing it would help rebuild their bond after the divorce. In the beginning, everything seemed bright—late-night breakfasts, funny text messages, photos of burnt waffles and movie nights. I told myself his happiness mattered more than my own longing to have him home every day.
But little by little, those cheerful updates faded. His messages became shorter, then rare, and finally silent. When his teachers reached out with concerns about missing assignments and a sudden withdrawal from class, I realized something deeper was happening.
