He lowered his head, his shame so visible it was almost pitiful. «I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know that. But I had to see you. I had to see Mason. I had to know if there was any tiny chance of fixing something.»
The tears came then, but not for him. For me. For all the days I had to pretend to be strong while I was breaking inside. I stood up. «You don’t get to decide when to come back. You can’t just show up and act like nothing happened.»
Ryan stood up too. «Please, let me be his dad again. Let me talk to him. I’m begging you.»
I looked at him, taking a deep breath. Every fiber of my being screamed to throw him out, to banish him from our lives. But then I remembered Mason’s eyes that day on the beach, his trembling voice asking if that man was his dad.
I sighed. «Tomorrow, eleven a.m. at the hotel cafe. You can see him.»
He nodded, visibly relieved. «Thank you.»
«Don’t thank me,» I said, turning away. «This isn’t forgiveness. It’s a door left ajar, and you better not close it again.» I walked out without looking back. My legs were shaking, but my back was straight. I finally had the truth, but it didn’t feel like closure. It felt like the start of another storm.
The next day, I woke up before the alarm went off. I lay there staring at the ceiling, with one question drilling into my head: Did I make a mistake by allowing this? Letting Ryan see Mason was like opening a door that I myself had sealed with fire and rage. What if he hurt him again? What if that illusion of a father only brought more emptiness?
Mason, for his part, was excited. He thought we were just going for breakfast. «Hotcakes, Mom? Please tell me they have hotcakes,» he said, putting on his sneakers without even combing his hair.
«Of course, honey,» I replied with a fake smile. «They’re going to be the best.»
When we arrived at the hotel cafe, Ryan was already there, sitting at a corner table, drumming his fingers on the surface as if time weighed on him. Mason saw him and froze, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to solve a puzzle that was too big for him. «Mom, is that him?»
I nodded slowly. «Yes, honey, that’s your dad.»
Mason didn’t run to him like in the movies. He didn’t scream or cry. He walked slowly until he was in front of the table. Ryan instantly stood up and knelt to his level. «Hey, champ,» he said, his voice trembling. «It’s me, Dad.»
Mason stared at him, his lips trembling. «But you… you were gone. Mom said—» He couldn’t finish. The words got stuck in his throat.
Ryan lowered his head. «I know, and I’m so, so sorry. I made a huge mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I only hurt you.»
For a moment, they didn’t move. And then Mason took a step forward and hugged him. A small, shaky hug, but real. Ryan wrapped his arms around him as if he never wanted to let go, his body shaking, his shoulders trembling. I looked away because, regardless of my feelings, Mason had just gotten a piece of his heart back.
They sat together. Ryan ordered hotcakes and orange juice for Mason, coffee for himself. I didn’t order anything. I just watched.
Mason started asking questions. «Where have you been? What were you doing? Why didn’t you call us?» Ryan answered honestly, but without details that might confuse him. He talked about long trips, about mistakes he had made, about fixing things. I didn’t say anything. I let him talk. I let him build, even if it was late.
At one point, Mason lowered his voice and asked, «Did you miss me?»
Ryan swallowed. «More than anything in the world.»
That was enough. Mason smiled, timidly at first, then with that wide smile that had lit up his face since he was a baby. He started telling him everything: school, soccer, the sandcastle from the day before. Ryan listened as if every word were gold.
When they finished breakfast, Mason took his hand. «Can you come to the beach with us today, please?»
Ryan looked at me silently, asking for permission without words. I nodded. «Just for today.»
The three of us walked to the water’s edge. And for an hour, it almost felt normal. A father and son building sandcastles, laughing when the tide washed them away. I watched them, and my heart was torn in two: happy for Mason, but shattered by everything that had been taken from us.
When it was time to leave, Mason hugged him again. «Can we see you tomorrow, too?»
Ryan looked at me. «We’ll see, champ. One step at a time.»
On the way back to the hotel, Mason’s voice was pure light. «Mom, maybe he can come back with us. Maybe we can be like before.» I didn’t answer because I didn’t know the answer. The door I thought was closed forever was ajar, and what walked through it could change everything, for better or for worse.
That night, after Mason fell asleep clutching his favorite stuffed animal, I went out onto the balcony with a light blanket and a cup of tea that had lost its flavor. The waves broke calmly in the distance. Everything seemed at peace. Everything but me.
Seeing Mason with Ryan had been a wound and a balm at the same time. It had healed something in him and torn something in me. I hadn’t heard him laugh like that since he was five. A few minutes later, someone tapped softly on the window. It was Ryan.
