“There’s so much we need to talk about,” my mother adds, her voice gentle and apologetic. “We’re so sorry, Troy, that it took Hope and Kaden finding each other for us to finally reach out to you. We’re deeply ashamed of how we treated you after you and my sister separated. We handled it poorly, and we hope that one day we can earn your forgiveness.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Troy replies, a sincere smile softening his features. “You were only doing what anyone would have done for a loved one who had just been betrayed. I just wish you knew how truly sorry I was… and how sorry I still am.”
My dad rises to his feet and walks to his desk to retrieve a tissue from the tissue box, and hands it to Troy, whose eyes and cheeks are now streaked with tears.
“We’ve always wondered how you were—what had become of you, and the baby who, it turns out, found his way into my little girl’s heart, many years later.”
Our parents’ gaze moves between Kaden and me, their faces alight with hope and genuine happiness.
“When I looked into those familiar green eyes last night, I knew I was looking into yours,” my dad says to Troy, leaning against his desk. “Kaden is a strapping young man, and so much like you, always ready to help those he cares about with anything and everything.”
The father and son exchange a brief look, and even without words, it’s clear that Troy is proud of the man Kaden has become.
“And you,” Troy says, smiling, his gaze flicking between my parents. “I heard about Finn working for the Federal Police, and Hope, a nurse at one of the best private hospitals in the country. You’ve raised your children to do truly meaningful work in this world. You both must be very proud.”
“Thank you. Justine and I have been blessed with two amazing kids. We’ve never been prouder,” my father says, giving me a wink.
“Tell us about your life, Troy” my mother urges softly. “There’s so much we’ve missed. Amber confessed many things before she passed—things she regretted for a very long time, and I think you deserve to know them.”
Suddenly, Kaden stands from his seat and walks over to me. “We’ll give you some time to catch up. I’m sure there’s a lot to talk about. Hope and I will wait in the living room.”
Troy nods appreciatively. “Thanks, son.”
Grabbing my hand, Kaden leads us out, gently closing the door behind us as we make our way to the living room.
We sit in silence, curled together on the couch as a movie plays unnoticed before us, our minds drifting a million miles away. How do we even begin to unpack everything that was said in my father’s study? They went from childhood friends, to family, to strangers—nearly four decades passing without contact, without either of them knowing how the other had survived all those years in between.
I can’t even imagine what that must have felt like for our parents—for Troy especially, living all that time believing my parents and Aunt Amber despised him.
Almost an hour later, my parents finally step into the living room, their arms wrapped around each other, with Troy following closely at their side.
All three pairs of eyes immediately find Kaden and me nestled together on the couch. Their gazes are red-rimmed and glassy, as if they’ve spent the entire time behind closed doors crying and pouring their hearts out.
We straighten up on the couch, and Kaden switches off the TV, the sudden quietness settling heavily over the room.
“Are you guys ready to go?” Troy asks, his voice raspy as he sniffles.
Kaden stands and holds out his hand to me, and I take it. “Do you have everything you need, Dad?”
Troy glances at my parents, and they share a warm, heartfelt smile before he looks back at Kaden and me, offering us that very same expression.
“Yeah,” he says softly, emotion threading his voice. “I do now, son. I do now.”
Chapter 47
Kaden
Seven days have passed since my dad and Hope’s parents reconnected, ending thirty-seven years of silence. They’ve kept in regular contact ever since, and Frank has even invited my dad over whenever he wishes—for a barbecue, or simply to share a bottle of whisky together, just like the old days, he had said.
This is exactly what my father needs to reclaim some of the peace and happiness he lost so long ago. At least now, I can see him truly living and enjoying his life, rather than being trapped in a shed out the back of his house for all hours of the day.
They’re still making up for lost time, and though their lives have changed in countless ways, some things remain comfortably familiar. Just like last night, when Dad picked Frank up in his classic Jaguar. The energy and expressions on their faces as my dad pulled out of the gates were both amusing and heart-warming, like two teenage boys taking their first car for a spin after getting their licenses, and reliving the carefree thrill of their youth.
For a moment, it felt as if nothing had ever come between them, as though their friendship had always stood the test of time. It was the first time I had ever seen my father so happy—so unburdened, as if nothing weighed on him: no worries, no stress, just pure, unadulterated joy.
Today, however, the mood is a little more sombre. It’s the first time my father will be visiting his ex-wife’s gravesite at the Wattle Grove Memorial Park. He carries a fresh bouquet of pink chrysanthemums, remembering how much she loved them, as Hope guides us towards her aunt’s burial plot.
A few minutes later, we’re standing on a wide stretch of land, the lone headstone less than a few feet away from us, the rest of the section still empty, waiting to be filled.
