It had been twenty years since my husband left. Twenty years of scraped-together meals, late-night shifts, and those weeks when I’d count down to payday like it was some sort of lifeline.
I should’ve been used to the constant balancing act of being a single mother, but it still felt like I was one misstep from everything crashing down.
Jake was my life, though. No matter how hard things got, my bright-eyed, creative son was the reason I kept going. But there was a problem, a big one.
At twenty-five, Jake still hadn’t found his footing.
