My five-year-old daughter hid from her aunt at a family gathering and quietly asked, “Daddy… am I supposed to say sorry?” Moments later, one small test exposed the truth my parents were desperate to cover up.

For me, that was enough.

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One Saturday afternoon, Rebecca showed up at my house without warning.

I was on the porch, while Lily was inside watching cartoons.

Rebecca stepped out of her car with red eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Are you happy?” she said. “You ruined me.”

I looked at her without moving.

“No, Rebecca. You did that yourself.”

“It was one moment. One damn moment. You’re going to destroy me over that?”

“My daughter will remember that moment for the rest of her life.”

Rebecca took a step closer.

“Lily has always been strange. Always crying, always stuck to you. You made her weak.”

That was when I understood there was no remorse.

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