Chapter 32 #2
Theo tries the wheel again. The platform rises another inch before catching.
Theo looks at Julian. “Better.”
“Better.”
“Not fixed.”
“No.”
Theo takes the model apart at the corner he has been studying and rearranges two pieces. Julian watches him with an expression I recognize immediately. That same focused stillness. The same patience before action.
Theo does not rush to make the next move. He studies what changed first.
Julian says, “Try it now.”
Theo turns the wheel.
This time, the platform rises smoothly.
Theo’s face changes.
“It worked!”
Julian nods. “It did.”
Theo looks at him with open surprise.
“You are good at this.”
Julian smiles faintly. “You did most of it.”
“I did?”
“You figured out where the problem was.”
Theo looks back at the model as if seeing it differently now. I stay where I am and let them keep talking. For once, neither of them needs me to explain what comes next.
The visit settles into an easy rhythm after they fix the model. Theo stays on the floor for another several minutes, testing the pulley and making small adjustments while Julian watches without taking over. I can see some of the tension leaving Theo’s shoulders, and Julian seems to notice it too.
Eventually, Theo carries the model back to the table and starts gathering the loose pieces into one of his plastic containers. Julian stands and brushes a hand over the front of his trousers, but he does not move toward the door yet.
Theo looks up at him. “Are you coming back?”
Julian stills for a moment before glancing toward me.
I let him answer.
“If you want me to,” Julian says.
Theo thinks about that for a second.
“Okay.”
Julian waits, and Theo adds, “When?”
A faint smile touches Julian’s mouth.
“Tomorrow afternoon, if that works for your mom.”
Theo looks at me.
“Tomorrow works,” I tell him.
Theo turns back toward Julian. “After school?”
“After school,” Julian says.
Theo nods, apparently satisfied with the arrangement, and returns to sorting the pieces in front of him. There is no dramatic reaction and no sudden change in the way he behaves. He simply accepts that Julian will be back tomorrow and moves on to the next thing occupying his attention.
A few minutes later, Theo carries his model toward the family room.
“I’m going to watch TV,” he tells me.
“Okay,” I say. “Keep the volume reasonable.”
“I know.”
He disappears down the short hallway with the model tucked against his chest. The television comes on a moment later. Julian and I are left standing near the dining table. The quiet feels different now.
For a moment, neither of us says anything, and I can still hear Theo shifting things around in the other room. Julian looks toward the hallway before turning back to me.
“I want to be clear about something.”
I fold my arms loosely across my chest.
“Okay.”
“I’m not bringing lawyers into this unless you force me to.”
My shoulders tense despite the way he says it.
Julian notices. “That came out harsher than I meant.”
“It did.”
He exhales.
“I’m not interested in taking Theo away from you. I’m not interested in dragging him into some custody fight, changing his school, or dismantling the life he already has here.”
I study him carefully.
“What are you interested in?” I ask.
Julian’s expression shifts.
“Being his father.”
The answer is simple enough that it catches me off guard. He continues before I can respond.
“I want time with him. I want to know what his days look like. Eventually, I want to pick him up from school. Have dinner with him. Spend weekends with him when he’s comfortable with that.
I want him to be able to call me because something happened at school or because he built something and wants to show me. ”
My throat tightens.
Julian keeps his voice even.
“I missed too much already. I know I don’t get to walk in here and demand those years back.”
“No,” I say quietly. “You don’t.”
“I know.”
That is what stops me from getting defensive.
He is not arguing with me.
He is not trying to win.
He is telling me what he wants and leaving room for Theo inside it.
I look toward the family room.
“He needs consistency,” I say.
“Not a sudden rush of attention for a month and then nothing.”
Julian’s jaw tightens.
“That isn’t what I’m planning.”
“I know, but I need to say it.”
“You should.”
I turn back to him. “Everything needs to happen gradually.”
“I agree.”
“He has school. Friends. Emma. Maya and Tom. His routines are normal to him.”
“I’m not asking you to change any of that.”
I search his face.
“You live in New York.”
“I work in New York.”
“That is usually how living somewhere starts,” I say.
A faint smile touches his mouth, but it disappears quickly.
“Blackwell already has major operations here,” Julian says.
“The Silicon Valley campus is not some satellite office I visit twice a year. I can spend more time on the West Coast without abandoning New York or my position.”
I stare at him.
“Are you saying you’re moving?”
“No.”
The immediate answer settles me slightly.
“I’m saying California is not an obstacle.”
I let that sit.
Julian continues, “I can adjust how I work. I can spend longer stretches here. I can fly back when I need to be in New York. Adrian can carry more of the daily executive load when necessary.”
“You’ve thought about this.”
“Since yesterday.”
“That’s not very long.”
“No,” he says.
“But I don’t need six months to know I’m not going to be a father from three thousand miles away.”
The words land harder than I expect.
I look down at my hands.
“I don’t know exactly what this looks like yet.”
“Neither do I,” he says swiftly.
“I’m scared of getting it wrong,” I say.
“So am I.”
I look up. There is no arrogance in his expression now. That frightens me almost as much as the rest of it, because this version of Julian is harder to defend myself against.
“I think we start with tomorrow afternoon,” I say.
Julian nods. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
“And we go from there.”
“We go from there.”
He glances toward the family room once more before reaching for his jacket again. This time, when he moves toward the door, I walk with him.
Julian pauses at the threshold.
“Thank you for today.”
I know he does not mean the conversation.
He means Theo.
“You’re welcome.”
He opens the door, then looks back at me.
“I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“I know.”
Julian leaves, and I watch him walk toward his car before closing the door.
The townhouse is quiet except for the television in the other room. Nothing has been taken from Theo. No one has arrived to dismantle the life I built around him.
For the first time, letting Julian in does not feel like losing control of my son’s world. It feels like making room for one more person who wants to love him.