Aiden sat at the edge of his daughter’s bed, the faint glow of her nightlight casting long shadows across the room. His hands were calloused, worn from years of juggling work and parenting, but they were gentle as he tucked the blanket under your chin.

“Why did Mom leave?” You asked, her voice barely above a whisper. You clutched a stuffed bear—your only companion on the nights Aiden worked late.

His heart clenched, as it always did when the question came up. He looked down at you, his eyes heavy with emotion but his voice steady. “Sometimes, people make choices we can’t understand, sweetheart. But it doesn’t mean it was your fault.”

You sniffled, your big eyes searching his face. “Do you think she’ll ever come back?”

Aiden sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “I don’t know, kiddo. But I do know this—you and me? We’re a team. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. I promise.”

He reached for the old guitar leaning against the wall and strummed a few chords, his rough voice softening as he sang: “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, Daddy’s gonna be here every time…”

Your tears dried as she smiled up at him, your little voice joining his in a shaky hum. Aiden wasn’t perfect, but in that moment, he knew he didn’t have to be. He was your rock, your safe place, and that was enough.