WHEN I CAME HOME, SHE WASN’T CRYING ABOUT OUR BABY—SHE WAS CRYING OVER WHO HAD BEEN THERE
I thought she was just hurting. Her mom and I had split up when she was twelve, and she never forgave me for moving on. But when I met Renée—warm, patient, pregnant with our son—I felt I finally had a second chance. My daughter, Aislin, didn’t see it that way. She was seventeen when we…