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His parents separated twice and got back together twice and then divorced in 2021 with enough bitterness that every holiday for four years afterward became a negotiation that nobody won.
There were two Christmases — 2021 and 2022 — that Theo spent at our house because neither of his parents would concede that the other one had him that year.
Jack never made a production of it. He’d come into the kitchen and say:
“Mom, Theo’s staying.”
Not asking. Informing. Like a weather report.
And I always said yes. Every single time, for eleven years, and I never once regretted it and I’m so glad about that, because of what came later.
When Jack Got Sick, That Boy Paid It Back in a Way I Still Can’t Describe Properly
