But that hope in their eyes quickly faded, replaced by cold, hard anger. Jason’s letter wasn’t what they expected.
“I’m sorry,” Jason had written, “that I wasn’t the son you wanted me to be. But I’ve learned to forgive you for the pain you caused, and I hope one day you can forgive yourselves, too. I wish things could have been different, but I’ve made peace with what is.”
The room fell silent as they finished reading, the weight of Jason’s words hanging in the air. No one spoke. They just stared at the letter as though it were some cruel joke.
Finally, Susan looked up, her face twisted with something resembling grief — though more likely disappointment.
“This… this isn’t what we expected,” she said, her voice flat.
I couldn’t suppress the bitter smile tugging at my lips.
“No, I suppose it isn’t. You came here thinking you could take what wasn’t yours. You thought you could make up for the years you lost by claiming something of his. But all Jason left you was his forgiveness. And honestly, that’s more than you deserve.”
Charles clenched his fists, seething with rage. “You think you’re so righteous, don’t you? Sitting here in his house, acting like you were the only one who ever cared about him.”
I steadied myself, taking a deep breath.
This was the moment I’d dreaded, but also prepared for.
