The night before his graduation, my dad found a baby in his bike basket — 18 years later, the woman who abandoned her showed up at my ceremony

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I am.”

He nodded, though I could tell he was still watching me carefully, ready to catch anything that might fall apart.

“Do you regret it?” I asked suddenly.

“Regret what?”

“Stopping that night,” I said. “Choosing me.”

He looked at me as though the question itself was impossible.

“No,” he said. “Never.”

“Even though it changed everything?”

He smiled.

“It didn’t change everything,” he said. “It showed me what everything was supposed to be.”