All I care about is being there when she needs me. Being the father she deserves. Being the stable, safe, loving presence in her chaotic world.

The little girl who calls me daddy isn’t mine by blood. But she’s mine by choice. By love. By showing up every single day for three years and counting.

And I’ll keep showing up. Every morning. Every school event. Every nightmare. Every triumph. Until she’s grown and doesn’t need me anymore.

Though something tells me we’ll always need each other. The broken biker who found purpose in a traumatized little girl. And the little girl who found safety in the arms of a stranger who refused to let her go.

That’s what family really is. Not blood. Not DNA. Just people who show up for each other when it matters most.

And I’ll show up for my daughter until the day I die.