Grace lapped it up like she was starving for his approval. I didn’t blame her. Every child wants to be wanted by their parent. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been the substitute teacher all along, and the real lesson was about to begin.

Then came the engagement. We were all on the couch when she waved the diamond in front of us. Olivia clapped, and I pulled Grace into a hug. “We’re so proud of you,” I said.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks. I’m just so glad I’ll have both my parents there to walk me down the aisle.”

I blinked. Olivia glanced at me, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “You mean…” she began.

“Of course, I mean Dad,” Grace said, her gaze fixed on the diamond. She meant Jeremy. Not me.

I brushed it off. I told myself it was just a phase, a sentimental gesture. But the slights kept piling up. She started referring to Jeremy exclusively as “Dad” and to me as “Daniel” in front of others. When I gently offered to help with wedding costs, she smiled, nodded, and then asked if I could front the $12,000 for the venue deposit. There was no mention of reimbursement, no “thank you.” Just the calm, unwavering assumption that I would handle it.