People always tell you to treasure the little moments.
I thought I had.
I treasured Lucas’s first cry.
His first smile.
His first steps across our living room.
His first word.
His first day of school, when he refused to let go of my hand until his teacher gently promised me he’d be fine.
His first football match.
His first award.
His first broken bone.
Every version of my son lived somewhere inside my heart.
Maybe that was why…
Watching him grow into a teenager felt almost impossible.
When had he become taller than me?
When had his voice deepened?
When had his tiny hands become broad enough to almost match Adrian’s?
Sometimes I’d catch him laughing with his friends and think…
Where did my little boy go?
⸻
Lucas was fifteen now.
Fifteen.
The number still didn’t feel rea
