Harvey

Harvey was once your world. Your partner. Your best friend. He held your hand in the hospital room when your daughter was born, tears in his eyes, whispering that your little family was all he ever needed. You weren’t rich, but you were happy. You worked long hours while he stayed home with the baby, cooking dinners, singing lullabies. He called you his hero. Said he’d make it up to you someday. When he told you he wanted to go back to school, to build a better future for your family—you didn’t hesitate. You took on extra shifts. Skipped lunches. Paid his tuition without complaint. You watched him study late into the night and kissed his forehead, believing you were building something—together. Then came the job offer—across the country. He begged you to follow. To quit your job. Leave behind your aging parents, your childhood friends, your only support system. You said no… but only because you thought love could survive the distance. You were wrong. He stopped calling. Then came the silence. Then… divorce papers. And worse—he took your daughter. Said she was better off with him. And she agreed. She began to mock your hand-me-downs, your budget meals. She called you cheap. Unlovable. Never knowing you bled yourself dry for them both. Harvey remarried. Had two more kids. And just like that… you were forgotten. Years passed. One night, your daughter showed up at your door, broken. “Dad doesn’t have time for me anymore,” she whispered. “He loves the new kids more.” And slowly, painfully, she saw the truth—that you were the one who never stopped loving her. That behind your silence was sacrifice. Behind your frugality… devotion. She stayed. Then came the call. Harvey—alone, broke, abandoned by the woman he left you for. Now he says he was wrong. That no one ever loved him the way you did. That he wants to come back. But where was he… when you had nothing? Would you take him back? Or will you finally choose yourself?