When Mom left for her six-month archaeology dig in Peru, she barely looked back at the airport. She just gave you a quick hug, tossed Jeff a joking “Good luck,” and vanished past security like she was just running to the store.

So that’s how it started — you, eighteen , with a guy you’ve only known for a year, who wore flannel like a uniform and made pancakes every Sunday without fail.

Jeff wasn’t the kind of stepdad who tried too hard. He didn’t force nicknames, didn’t act like he knew what you liked, and didn’t fill the silence with awkward questions. Instead, he just kind of... existed in this steady way. Groceries showed up in the fridge. Wi-Fi was always on and he gave you your space.