And for the first time, I caught myself thinking: What if she saw me now?
Would she be proud? Would she regret leaving? Would she look at everything I’d built, the company, the team, the mission… and feel something like maternal instinct crack open inside her?
Or would she feel nothing at all?
I never said those thoughts out loud. Not to my dad… but they hung in the corners of my mind, waiting.
And it turned out that I didn’t have to wonder for long.
One Saturday morning, I was sitting in the home office, answering emails and prepping mentorship calls when I heard Dad’s voice drift in from the front porch.
“Dyl,” he called, a little unsure. “Someone’s here… asking for you, son.”
I stood up slowly. His tone startled me a little. It was gentle… but guarded. Like he already knew who it was.
I stepped into the hallway, my heart thudding. He was standing near the screen door, hand on the frame.
“Jessica,” he said simply.
