One day, Peter returned, asking to come home. I invited him in, served him tea, and presented a folder filled with child support documents—his unpaid dues for the year he abandoned us. His smile faded as he realized the consequences of his actions.

I told him, “I stopped setting myself on fire to keep others warm.” Peter was shocked, but I knew: the chapter with him was closed. I walked him out, and the next morning, I tossed his bouquet into the compost bin, along with everything else that had lost its purpose.