Yesterday, I watched them on set, adjusting costumes with confidence and precision. A director told me, “Your daughters are incredible.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m the lucky one.”
We still live in the same small apartment. We still eat takeout and laugh too loudly.
Lauren chose fame and found emptiness.
We chose each other—and found everything.
My daughters didn’t need designer dresses or stacks of cash.
They needed someone who stayed.
And eighteen years later, when their mother tried to buy them back, they already knew the difference between something expensive—and something priceless.
