Sunday, June 25th #3
“And…” he trails off, voice rough. “I also know it takes time to forgive.”
My brow lifts, cautious. Forgive who? Myself? My mom? Him?
“Ran, I know you’re angry… at me. And you have every right to be,” he says.
“I failed you. In every way. I left you to fend for yourself for a long time. You fought with no one by your side, no one to protect you. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am…
for all of it. For living a secret life with Penny, for abandoning you and Stevie.
For not seeing the signs. I should’ve known.
I should’ve protected you. I should’ve done a hell of a lot differently.
I’m sorry, Ran,” he says, voice low. Then again, firmer: “I am sorry.”
Silence.
Suddenly, he merges across two lanes of freeway and pulls onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against gravel as he throws the Tahoe in park. He flips the hazard lights on. Then he turns full body in his seat to face me, his gaze locked on mine.
“Ronan,” he says, eyes steady. “I’m sorry. I love you. I need you to hear that. I love you. There was never a time in my life when I didn’t want to be your dad. When I didn’t love you.”
I lock eyes with him, jaw tight. I’m not used to this version of him, the one who owns his shit.
It hits me then that he’s been trying to, and I just…
haven’t been willing to listen. He’s been making these quiet little attempts for a while now.
He always answers the phone when I call, no matter how late it is or how many of his calls and texts I’ve ignored.
He shows up at Murphy’s when he knows I’m working to check on me, always asks about Cat.
He keeps trying, even when I give him nothing back but silence or sarcasm or make him run straight into my carefully built emotional brick wall.
I’ve been so angry. He left. He looked the other way. He kept running while I was stuck, made a whole other life while I lived in the wreckage of the first one.
But still… he’s here. When I told him how much it mattered to me to find Cormac, he dug. Probably used his military security clearance to find him, then insisted he go with me. And I’m glad he did. He showed up.
No fanfare. No big gestures. Just showing up. And maybe that matters. Maybe that counts for something. It should, right?
It twists something in me. Not forgiveness, not yet. But it cracks the door.
He swallows. “I want to be in your life, Ran. I’ve missed too much of you. And… I want to be in my grandbaby’s life, too.”
I blink, heart hammering in my chest. It still feels surreal when people say it out loud—that I’m going to be a dad.
That there's going to be a tiny human who’s half me and half Cat.
Fuck. I’m going to be a father before the year is out.
And to say I have a hard time wrapping my head around that would be a fucking understatement.
“Even though I’m clearly way too handsome and young to be a grandfather,” my dad adds with a grin.
I huff a laugh in spite of myself.
He looks at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Seriously, Ran. Do I look like a grandpa?” He puffs his chest out, flexing so hard I worry about the integrity of his already-very-fitted shirt stretching across his pecs.
“Not really,” I say, chuckling.
“Exactly. I’m too damn hot to be a grandfather. Shit, I’m only turning thirty-seven next month.”
“Yeah, sorry, Dad,” I say sheepishly.
He just shakes his head with a smile. “It’s alright. It’s what we do, right? You come from a long line of men who couldn’t keep it in their pants.”
I snort. “At least I made it to nineteen.”
“Athair was only thirty-six when he became a grandfather.” Then he pauses, more thoughtful now. “Speaking of which, I refuse to be called ‘Grandpa’ or any of that nonsense.”
“Oh yeah?” I smirk. “What do you want to be called, then?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“Well, Athair is taken, so that’s a no-go.”
He nods. “We’ll have to think of something.”
“You still got some time,” I say. “It’s not like this baby’s showing up tomorrow.”
“No, but six months will fly by, Ran.”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “God, I’m not ready.”
The weight of everything presses in on my chest again like it always does when I think too far ahead. I don’t have the faintest idea how I’m going to make it all work.
My dad squeezes my shoulder lightly. “It’s okay. I’m here. Whatever you guys need. I mean it.”
I look at him, unsure what to say. For so long, I didn’t think I could count on him. I still don’t know if I can—not truly—but maybe… maybe this is the start of something different.
“Do you know what you’re going to do about your living situation?” he asks.
“Not really. Right now we’re still in the apartment. Cat and I haven’t really figured it all out yet, but Shane thinks he’ll be fine with a newborn crying all night.” I shrug. “Whatever Cat wants, I’ll try to make it work. I just want her to be alright. I’m trying to save up as much as I can.”
“Whatever I can do to help, Ran, please let me know. You’re not alone, okay? If you need help, financial or otherwise, it’s no problem.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I appreciate that, Dad, I do. But it’d feel weird as hell asking you for money.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “I mean… I managed to get a girl pregnant, but I still need to ask Daddy for help? Feels pathetic. Like, if I can fuck around, I can step up.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “You seem to feel strongly about this.”
“I do.”
“But Ran…” His tone softens again. “I know you’ve never had anyone you could rely on, not really. But I’m telling you now: I’m here. You and Cat don’t have to do this alone. Please, ask for help when you need it. You don’t have to carry the whole weight on your shoulders.”
“I’m not,” I say. “Cat’s already carrying more than her fair share. The least I can do is make sure she and the baby have what they need.”
He nods. “And that’s exactly why I want to help. So you can focus on being a good… boyfriend… a good partner to Cat, and a good dad. Let me be a part of this, Ran. Let me show up this time.”
For a second I just sit there, staring at him. His ask is simple, but it lands hard, like a boulder plummeting into water, and all I can feel are the ripples spreading out from where it hits.
I want to hold onto the anger. I want to say it’s too late. But the truth is… I don’t think I believe that anymore.
My throat feels tight. My chest too. I don’t say anything, just lean forward, dragging a shaky breath through my nose as I press my forehead to his shoulder.
And then his arms are around me. Strong. Solid. Familiar in a way that makes my heart ache. He hugs me like he’s been waiting to, like maybe he needed this just as much as I did.
It’s awkward and cramped and the console digs into my ribs, but I stay there anyway. For the first time in a long time, I don’t fight him. I let myself stay.
“I missed you,” I mutter, voice thick. “I’ve missed you so much… for so long.”
“I missed you too, bud,” he says into my hair. “So damn much. But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”