Kyle looked him dead in the eyes, his voice unwavering.
“You’re nothing to me. All the money in the world won’t make me forget that you left us. You’re a stranger, and if you’re going to try to take me away from Mom, then I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Pride swelled in my chest, mixing with a fierce relief.
I reached out, pulling Kyle to me, feeling his steady heartbeat against mine. I looked at his father, not bothering to hide the anger in my eyes. “Stay away from us.”
I didn’t wait for a response.
I led Kyle out, each step feeling like a victory.
The next morning, we tried to settle back into the quiet of our life, but the events of the previous day still weighed heavily on us.
When a knock sounded at our door, it startled us both. I opened it to find a man in a crisp suit, holding a bag. He handed it over without a word, disappearing before I could ask any questions.
Inside the bag was a staggering amount of crisp hundred-dollar bills, the kind of money I’d only ever seen in movies.
There was a note tucked in among the cash, scrawled in a familiar, rushed hand: “Forgive me.
I just wanted to make things right.”
Kyle looked at the money, then at me, his face hardening. “We don’t need his money, Mom. We have each other.”
I reached for his hand, squeezing it.
“I know, sweetheart. But maybe we could use this to finally catch our breath. To have a real chance at a fresh start.”
We sat there, side by side, letting the weight of that decision settle.
Whatever we chose, we’d do it together. Because in the end, it wasn’t the money or the mansion or even his father’s shadow that defined our life. It was us, standing together, no matter what came next.
