By the following spring, the community center’s financial education program had expanded to three neighborhoods.

I spent my mornings coordinating volunteers, my afternoons reviewing grants, and my evenings reading picture books to a toddler who wanted every story twice.

My apartment still had creaky floors.

Miles’s toys occupied most of the living room.

Some nights I missed the idea of the family I had hoped to build with Kyle, especially when our son woke up sick and I wanted another adult to share the worry.

But missing that dream didn’t mean I regretted leaving the reality.