He swallowed hard. “You used to tell me I could be anything if I’d stop acting like I didn’t care.”
My throat burned. “I told you that because I didn’t want you to end up like your father.”
The atmosphere shifted.
Grant’s eyes filled with tears. He nodded as though he’d carried those words for years. “I know.” He stepped closer. “I wanted to show you I’m not him.”
I reached out and touched the badge.
Then his voice became quieter, and all the confidence drained away.
“I wanted you to be proud of me.”
I stared down at his badge. It reflected the light. Real. Solid. My anger didn’t vanish. But it cracked.
I reached out and touched the badge. “You did this.”
Grant’s lip trembled. “Yeah.”
I blinked rapidly. “You scared me half to death.””Mom. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
The tears came anyway. Because my most difficult child had done something good. Because my hardest child had tried.
“I thought you were gone,” I said, my voice breaking.
Grant’s face crumpled. He stepped forward and hugged me, cautiously at first, then tightly.
“I’m here,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m here.”
Behind us, Sarah’s voice softened. “Mom. I’m sorry.”
“We wanted it to be perfect.”
Mark’s voice cracked. “We all are.”
Jason cleared his throat. “Yeah. We messed up.”
Eliza wrapped her arms around my side like she was little again. “We wanted it to be perfect.”
“There’s no perfect,” I said, wiping my tears. “There’s just showing up.”
Grant pulled away and looked directly at me. “No more disappearing. Not me. Not again.”
I studied his face. Same kid. Different weight behind his eyes.
“Go before I start yelling again.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I can’t take another night like this.”
He nodded. “You won’t.”
The officer cleared his throat near the doorway. “Ma’am. I’m Nate. I’m sorry for the fear. This was Grant’s idea.”
Sarah pointed toward him without turning around. “Go before I start yelling again.”
Nate gave a quick nod and slipped away.
The room finally exhaled.
