Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Great advice,” he snarls. “I’ll make sure to jot that down in the fatherly pearls of wisdom journal I’ve been keeping.”
I spread my hands out in front of me. “All I can do is be honest with you, Micah. I’ve told you where I stand, what I want, and what I hope for. What you choose to do with that is up to you.”
“Great. Consider me informed.”
I sigh and shake my head. I knew coming through the door that this was going to be a knife fight. Nothing with Micah has ever been easy. But there was some small, misguided part of me that hoped it would be simpler this time. That part of me is apparently even more misguided than I even thought when I got here. But it is what it is. I’ve said my piece and now it’s up to him to decide what he’s going to do with it.
“I’d like to invite you to dinner next week,” I say. “I’ll be at Dotello’s—you always loved that place when you were a kid—at seven o’clock next Friday. I’ll hold the table for an hour and hope you can make it.”
“And if I don’t?”
I shrug. “Then I’ll make the same reservation the week after that.”
He scoffs. “So, you’re just going to spend an hour at Dotello’s every Friday on the off chance I decide to come?”
“I will. I told you that I want a relationship with you. I’ve told you that I’m willing to meet you halfway,” I reply. “The ball is now in your court.”
I turn and head for the door but pause with my hand on the knob and turn back to him.
“I hope to see you next Friday,” I say.
And with that, I walk out and close the door quietly behind me. I’ve laid out the boundaries and set up the guidelines for a relationship with my son going forward. That uncertainty is gone as far as I’m concerned since he knows what he’ll get from me, and I know what I’m going to get from him. My hope is he absorbs everything I said and uses it as a catalyst to start growing and changing. I’m sure it’s going to take some time for any meaningful change to happen, and I have no doubts there will be some bumps along the road, but I’m hoping for the best.
I can only do as I said—meet him halfway. It’s up to Micah now.
EPILOGUE
HARLOW
One Year Later
The cork pops with a crack like a gunshot and shoots across the room, making everybody around the table cheer and howl with laughter. Hunter pours me a glass of bubbly with a wide smile on his face and signals for the wait staff to pour for everybody else. I look around the table, feeling my heart swell as everybody raises their glasses to me. The love I feel emanating from everybody at the table is palpable and so overwhelming, I have to fight off the tears.
We’re sitting in a private room at a nice restaurant. Hunter made all the plans and put together the guest list in secret. When we walked in and I saw everybody gathered around the table, I couldn’t stop the tears of joy from falling. Joy and relief, to be honest. I’ve been working so hard for this for what feels like a lifetime and to have finally achieved my goal, my dream, the emotions roiling around inside of me are overpowering. My dad is seated to my right. He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” he says.
“We both are,” my mom, seated to his right, chimes in. “Very proud of you.”
“Thank you guys. I’m just so glad you’re here,” I reply.
“Where else would be on your big day, sweetheart?” my dad says.
Over the past year, I’ve gotten to know some of Hunter’s friends from the fire station, and he’s gotten to know my family. Because of the age difference between us, my folks were skeptical, of course. I think my father still is a little. But they’ve gotten to know him, and they’re coming to love him as much as I do. They can see just how good of a man he is, how amazingly well he treats me, and just how happy he makes me.
My dad said he couldn’t really ask for more than that from somebody I’m in love with. Grudgingly, but he said it.
Hunter’s friends have been warm and accepting as well. From the start, they’ve taken me in as one of their own. Of course, they’ve razzed Hunter about dating somebody so much younger than he is, making the obligatory babysitter and Girl Scout jokes, but it’s always been meant in good fun. And surprisingly, rather than get irate about it, Hunter has just rolled with it, usually firing back at them with something. The camaraderie is really special, and I’ve started to think of these guys as family too.