He called that morning.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
But when the auditorium filled, his seat remained empty.
Five minutes before Sophie’s performance, my phone buzzed.
“Running late. Tell her I’ll make the next one.”
I stared at the message.
The next one.
There had always been another promise.
I put my phone away.
Backstage, Sophie saw my face.
“Daddy isn’t coming?”
I shook my head.
Her eyes filled.
Then she reached for my hand.
“Mom, will you watch the whole thing?”
I straightened the ribbon on her shoe.
“Every second.”
And I did.
I watched her walk onto the stage.
Watched her stumble once.
Recover.
And keep dancing.
When she finished, I stood.
Clapping.
Just as she’d imagined her father would.
Sophie searched the audience.
Then she found me.
Standing.
Smiling.
