Looking at my watch, I glimpsed at my son Sam, standing patiently by the front door.
He turned around to face me, his eyes sparkling, a grin from ear-to-ear.
‘Daddy’s coming,’ Sam, then 2, beamed.
His optimism melted me.
Yet, my heart broke for the disappointment I knew he was about to feel.
See, we’d been here before.
His dad Paul, my ex, was always letting us down.
Promising to come to spend time with Sam, then not showing up.
Time and time again, I’d be the one to tell our boy the bad news, to cuddle him to sleep as he cried.
And this time, in 2017, was no different.
‘I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t think Daddy’s coming today,’ I said, and his little face crumpled.
I was fuming.…