My 10YearOld Son Asked Me to Stop Packing His Dads Lunch Because He Throws It Away by the Corner One Day, I Followed My Husband and Discovered Something 

He didn’t smile.

“Dad doesn’t eat it.”

For as long as Jamie could remember, he’d watched me pack his father’s lunch before work.

Edward had worked construction throughout our marriage, leaving before seven in dusty boots and faded work clothes.

Two sandwiches. Apple slices. Coffee. And always a note beneath the napkin.

When Jamie got old enough to write, he’d started adding his own messages too.

I set the knife down.

“What do you mean he doesn’t eat it, honey?”