Chapter 26 - TWO YEARS LATERTwo years after Gary raised that belt in our kitchen, Ethan was eleven.
Mom had completed every required program.
No Gary.
No contact.
Her relationship with us had improved slowly.
Dad had regular parenting time with Ethan through a revised court order.
Not because DNA appeared.
Not because Mom lost everything.
Because Dad consistently showed up.
School meetings.
Soccer.
Dentist.
Homework.
Boring fatherhood.
The best kind.
Mom and Dad still disagreed.
Pickup times.
Medication.
Screen time.
But they used a co-parenting application.
No children carrying messages.
No Gary filtering anything.
No secret cards in boxes.
I came home from college one Friday and found Ethan at the kitchen table painting.
Green.
Again.
I laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He looked at the paint cup.
Then understood.
“Oh.”
“You nervous?”
“No.”
He deliberately moved the cup farther from the edge.
“Smart.”
He grinned.
The wall still had a faint dent where the chair had hit.
Mom offered to repair it twice.
Ethan said leave it.
Then changed his mind a year later.
We patched it.
May you like
Painted.
The kitchen did not need a scar to validate what happened.
