“For what it’s worth, man, I’m glad you’re back.”
Daniel’s expression remained guarded.
Marcus placed the box on a table.
“Your old drill. Rachel borrowed it six months ago.”
He started toward the door.
Daniel spoke.
“Marcus.”
Marcus stopped.
Daniel struggled with the words.
“I shouldn’t have…”
Marcus waited.
Daniel glanced toward Caleb.
Then back at him.
“I jumped to a conclusion.”
“Yes, you did.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Marcus did not make it easy.
“But,” Marcus added, “if I walked into this without context, I might have thought the same thing.”
Daniel exhaled.
Marcus held out his hand.
Daniel stared at it.
Then shook it.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But enough.
Marcus left.
The house became quiet.
Rachel looked exhausted.
Caleb had fallen asleep against her chest.
Daniel sat across from them.
For the first time, he studied the boy without fear controlling what he saw.
Small fingers.
Long eyelashes.
Tiny sneakers.
He looked like what he was.
A toddler.
Not evidence.
Not betrayal.
A child.
Daniel leaned back.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“I mean really told me.”
“I know.”
“I could have prepared.”
“I know.”
Rachel’s voice broke.
“I was afraid you’d say no.”
Daniel looked at her.
“No to what?”
“To him.”
She looked at Caleb.
“By the time the custody hearing happened, he was already calling this home.”
Daniel listened.
“I kept thinking that if I asked you and you said you couldn’t do it, then I would have to choose.”
“Between me and him?”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel was quiet for a long time.
“That wasn’t fair.”
“No.”
“To either of us.”
“No.”
Rachel wiped her cheek.