Even though she was now sixteen, Emily was still completely my little girl, as much as Charlotte had always been. Most evenings I arrived home, Emily was the first to greet me, always wanting a long hug from her father, sitting down on the couch immediately so she could snuggle into me, and talking about her day. She might be awkward sometimes with others in the household, but with her father, she was still that precocious little girl at heart she'd always been.

Sometimes at night, I recognised when Caroline and Charlotte gave my youngest time with her father. Occasionally we'd just sit together while she was doing her homework,...