But the years took their toll. One day, exhaustion finally caught up with me, and I collapsed at work. I dismissed it as lack of sleep. Later, as I returned home with the boys, something stopped me cold.
Across the street stood Joe.
After five years.
“Kids, go inside,” I told them gently. “Uncle will be right there.”
Then I turned to him. “What the hell are you doing here? Stalking us?”
“I’m here for my children,” he said confidently. “I worked hard for five years to be stable. It’s time they come home with their real father.”
“Real father?” I scoffed. “You abandoned them before they were born. They’re mine now. Leave.”
But he didn’t.
Weeks later, I received a court summons.
At the hearing, Joe’s lawyer stood and asked, “Dr. Spellman, is it true you’ve been diagnosed with a brain tumor and are on medication for it?”
The room seemed to spin. My lawyer objected, but the judge allowed the question.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
The tumor was inoperable. I was doing everything I could just to hold on—for my boys.
The judge spoke with a heavy tone. “Dr. Spellman, if you love these children, you must understand what’s best for them. Given your condition, custody will be awarded to their biological father. You have two weeks.”
The words shattered me.
At home, as I packed their clothes and toys, my chest felt hollow.
“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you!” they cried, clinging to me.
I forced myself to stay strong. “Boys, if you love me, trust me. I’d never choose wrong for you. Joe will take care of you. And I’ll see you every weekend.”
But when it was time to leave, they couldn’t even look at Joe. Instead, they ran back to me, wrapping themselves around my legs.
“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden sobbed. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“We want to stay with you too!” Noah and Andy cried.
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