Over the next few months, Clara slowly became a constant presence in our lives. She joined us on walks, brought homemade soup when my son caught a cold, and always remembered the little details I shared in passing.

But what struck me most was the way she treated my son—with patience, gentle humor, and genuine affection. She never tried to replace anyone or fill a role that wasn’t hers; she simply became part of our days in a quiet, steady way. And I noticed something changing in myself too. The heaviness I had been carrying since my wife left began to lift, not because someone came to save me, but because someone finally saw me—not just as a struggling parent, but as a whole person trying his best.