ROBERT I watched as the officers led Amanda out of the courtroom, her shackled hands clasped behind her back and her head hanging low. She looked broken. Defeated. And whereas she'd walked in confidently earlier, flashing a smug grin at me, now her feet dragged, and she didn't dare to look up. She couldn't, though, not after all that had happened. Seeing her like this, knowing she finally got her karma, a bitter satisfaction curled in my chest. Finally, she was getting what she deserved. After the chaos, the wreck—the way she'd torn through my life, Renee's, and so many others—she would finally pay. This was her end. Her retribution. And it was brutal, yes, but it was also entirely fitting. "Yes," I breathed out, an invisible weight, one I'd carried for far too long, lifting from my chest. "Damn, I feel good," I murmured under my breath, and a smile formed on my lips. God! I couldn't wait to get home to Renee. I couldn't wait to tell her it was all over. That we had won, and Amanda would never hurt us again. She would never ever. Still deep in thought and unaware of what was happening around me, a voice called out, "Dad?" I froze immediately. Dylan. Slowly, I turned, my gaze drifting from where it had lingered on Amanda's retreating form to...my son. He was approaching me. However, he was not alone, as two police officers flanked him on either side. Like his mother, his hands were cuffed behind his back, and he looked...forlorn. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and tears glistened on them. As he came to a stop in front of me, he was shaking and trying to control himself from crying outright. "Hello, D...Dad," he stammered out. "Can I talk to you?" The request took me by surprise, and my brows lifted. Renee had predicted this. Stunned, I looked at him briefly before nodding, "Sure." There was an awkward pause as he looked down to avoid making eye contact with me and then back up. "So...um, thank you for talking to me." He sniffled, clearing his throat. "I...I just wanted to apologize for everything," he said quickly, his words slurring as the tears began falling down his cheeks. "I...I understand I shouldn't ask this. I do not deserve it, but I sincerely hope you can forgive me. It would greatly benefit me as I want to serve my jail time with a clear conscience, and I..." he trailed off, his voice breaking and unwarranted my heart broke with it. My eyes grew misty, and I blinked. I couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that for the first time in what felt like forever, when I looked at my son—the once prodigal boy who always made me so angry—I saw remorse, regret, guilt, and self-loathing. It was the same look he had on when he testified against Amanda, and even when he gave that speech of his. It seemed like he was finally coming to terms with everything he'd done, all the embarrassing, disappointing, and reckless things he'd done both aided and unaided. The look on his face reminded me of my conversation with Renee last night, the same conversation where she predicted this. 'He is still your biological son, Robert,' she had started after I told her of my plans to cut all ties with Dylan after the trial. 'Your flesh and blood. You cannot just abandon him.' 'But I can.' I argued. 'Just because we share DNA doesn't mean I can't cut him off. He does not deserve to be in my life. And he certainly does not deserve my forgiveness after all the things he did.’ 'No, baby.' Renee had disagreed. 'That isn't true, and besides, he really didn't do much bad things to you. Sure, he was errant and occasionally listened to his mother, but you can't entirely blame him.' 'But...' 'No buts, Rob.' She chimed in sharply, her tone gentle as she cupped my face. 'You have to forgive him, just as I have.’ 'You have?' 'Yes, I have. That day at the suite, he sounded genuine, and after you had him arrested, I just...I couldn't harbor any resentment towards him anymore.' Renee smiled sadly and continued, 'Tomorrow, after the trial, and if it goes as expected, I have a feeling Dylan will want to talk to you. If he does try to, you should listen to him.''Renee...' She ignored my resigned sigh. 'It's the least you can do now, Robert. Seriously. He is going to get sentenced. His mother, too. He will need someone to call when he is in jail, and that someone has to be you.' 'Right?' 'Right. So, you'll talk to him.' 'Okay.' 'And you will forgive him.' 'Okay.' 'Promise me.' 'I promise... ' "I didn't want to forgive you, boy," I said as the conversation with Renee faded, and I returned my attention to him. "But see, Renee advocated for it, and well, she is pretty persuasive." I chuckled wryly. At the mention of Renee, his expression grew solemn, and he swallowed visibly. I could see the shame in his eyes, too. "You are family, Dylan," I continued, "despite all the shit you pulled, and while I don't condone everything you have done...you are still my kid, and I love you." He swallowed again. "So, I forgive you." His brows lifted in surprise. "D...Dad? You—" he started, but I interrupted him, leaving the rest of his question unanswered as I held out my arms invitingly. "Come here, boy," I said, and without hesitating, he stepped forward and crashed into me, burying his face in my shoulder as his body shook against mine. "I forgive you," I said again as he sobbed harder, his raspy breathing brushing against my skin as he burrowed deeper into the embrace. Since he couldn't hug me back with his hands still restrained, he settled for nuzzling the crook of my neck. "I'm still sorry, Dad. So sorry." "It's alright." "But is it?" He sniffled and drew back. "Things can't just be okay. I was such a shitbag. I did a lot of terrible things. So many terrible things, Dad. Just saying sorry isn't enough, and...""And, well, I agree with you." I interrupted, and an expression that I couldn't put a name to appeared on his face. He gave me a questioning look. "Left to me, saying sorry won't cut it. It doesn't cut it, Dylan. You have to prove to me that you are truly sorry by changing and being responsible. But then..." I said casually, "You can just save that sorry and the rest of your apologetic words for Renee—if you ever happen to see her." "Oh, Dad," a grin appeared on his face—the first I had seen from him today. Then he sobered up, shifting nervously in place, and I could tell he was struggling with what to say next. "How's she doing?" He eventually asked, "Is she okay?" My lips twitched, "She sure is fine. As okay as one can be when they're four months pregnant, I suppose." "She is pregnant!" Dylan gaped, answering the question himself before I could, "Fuck yes, she is. During the trial, the prosecutor mentioned something along the lines of that, and I...holy shit!" His lashes fluttered, and more tears welled up in his eyes as he laughed. "Oh, Dad. Oh man, I'm fucked!" He continued to laugh, the tears streaming down. Were his tears sad or happy ones? Was he crying sad tears because his ex, Renee, was pregnant but not for him, or happy tears because he was going to be a big brother? Perhaps it was a mixture of both? I'd never know. Still laughing, Dylan bellowed a hearty congratulations, "I am so happy for you both," his voice clouded with emotion, "And Renee? Fuck, I am glad she has you, Dad. And I'm glad you've given her the happiness I could never give her. I'm just so thankful for that, you know. You made things right. You did. Thank you, Dad. Thank you." "You are welcome, buddy." A watery smile graced my face, and I hugged him once more. This time, I closed my eyes to savor the moment and embrace my son as a father would. This time, I didn't tell myself I was doing this because Renee asked or because I had promised. No, this time, I was doing this solely because I wanted to, because I needed to—father to son, son to father. We stayed in each other's arms for a while and only pulled away when one of the officers informed us time was running out for the bail application. "Bail application?" Dylan repeated the words, a confused frown ceasing his forehead. He looked between me and the officer. "Whose?" "Yours," I answered quietly, and his jaw dropped slack. "What, Dad? You did what?" The officers tried to take him away, but his feet would not move as he stared at me, waiting for a response. I couldn't stop the chuckle that left my throat at this. "I got you out, son." I grinned. "My lawyer is paying your bail as we speak." "You didn't!" "I did," I shrugged. "Let's just say this is me doing something to account for the change you owe me in the future." "Fucking Hell!" The shock on Dylan's face slowly transformed into a huge smile as his feet began to move. The officers were forcibly dragging him away, but that didn't stop him from yelling out over his shoulders, his voice echoing in the almost empty courtroom, "I love you, Dad. I LOVE YOU!" My grin widened. And as I watched him leave, proud of the last-minute decision I made when the judge announced his sentence just moment after Amanda's, I felt another weight—possibly the last of it—lift off my chest. The chapter with Amanda and Dylan was over, and now...on to the freakin next!