When I was little, my mom would pick me up from preschool and drop me off at my dad’s office.

I was very young.

He would pick me up in his arms and ask me, “What’s for lunch?”

He would set me on the big office chair behind his desk. Then he would pull the drawer open. Inside the drawer was a little table, and we would eat there together.

My legs dangled off the chair while we sat side by side.

There was nowhere else I wanted to be.

I felt safe with him.

Some of my first memories are sitting at that desk with him, eating lunch and being close to my dad.

Before things got confusing, there were moments that felt simple like that.

He was my dad.

And I loved being with him.

— Kellie