Chapter 26 - TWO YEARS AFTER THE KIBBLEAt seventy-two, I attended Eli’s middle-school robotics competition.
Brian sat three seats away.
Melissa beside him.
April on my other side.
No one pretended this configuration was normal.
It was ours.
Eli’s team lost.
He was furious.
“Sensor calibration.”
I nodded wisely.
“I have no idea what that means.”
“You said you were an engineer.”
“Buildings don’t chase tennis balls.”
He rolled his eyes.
Afterward, Brian and I stood near the parking lot.
He said:
“I paid the last installment.”
The $8,100 repayment.
“I saw.”
“Feels stupid now.”
“What?”
“All of it.”
“Which part?”
He laughed weakly.
“Pick one.”
I looked at him.
Then:
“The dog bowl was particularly inspired.”
He winced.
“Yeah.”
“Why Max’s?”
“I knew you cared about it.”
There.
The cruelty had been intentional.
He finally said it without disguising it as humor.
“I wanted to hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
Not because apology erased it.
Because truth deserved acknowledgment.
Then I said:
“I wanted to hurt you when I threw it.”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry too.”
That was the first full apology I gave him.
No:
But you started it.
No:
You deserved something.
Just mine.
He nodded.
We stood there.
Father.
May you like
Son.
Both older than the versions who had made the worst decisions.
