Chapter 10 - The Broken Truce
Leo froze. He looked at his mother, then at me, sensing instantly that he had crossed a forbidden line.
"Upstairs, Leo. Right now," Lauren said, her voice shaking with an anger that was all the more terrifying because it was quiet.
"Mom, he was just helping me with the truck—"
"I said *now*, Leo!"
The boy scrambled to his feet, abandoning the wooden toy on the rug, and bolted past his mother up the stairs. The bedroom door slammed shut above.
Lauren walked down the stairs slowly, each step deliberate, her jaw set so hard I could see the muscle twitching in her cheek. When she reached the bottom, she walked straight up to me.
"You promised," she hissed, her voice vibrating with fury. "You looked me in the eye at that kitchen table and you promised me you wouldn't do this!"
"He snuck down, Lauren! I didn't wake him up!" I protested, standing up to face her, holding the wooden truck between us like a shield. "He saw me working on this. He was curious!"
"He is a child, Liam! He doesn't know any better! But you do!" She snatched the wooden truck from my hand and threw it onto the sofa. "You come into my home, in the dead of night, and you start playing the wise, gentle craftsman? You start showing him the grandfather he never met? How dare you!"
"He's my son, Lauren!" The words burst out of me, loud and raw, shattering the quiet of the house.
Lauren stopped. Her chest heaved.
"He became my son the moment you left," she said, her voice dropping to a deadly, razor-sharp whisper. "You don't get the title just because your DNA is in his blood. A father is the one who sits in the emergency room at two in the morning when his fever hits a hundred and four! A father is the one who works fifty hours at a retail counter so the kid can have dental care! You gave up your right to call him your son the day you decided your pride was more important than checking your mailbox!"
"I know!" I yelled, tears streaming down my face. "I know I failed! I know I was a monster! But what do you want me to do, Lauren? Do you want me to pretend I don't love him? Do you want me to look at him and feel nothing? I looked at his hands tonight—he holds the knife the exact same way I did! He has my eyes, he has my grandfather's instincts, and every second I look at him, it tears my soul to pieces knowing what I threw away!"
"Then walk away!" she cried, breaking down, her hands clutching the lapels of her robe. "If it hurts you, walk away and save him the pain! Because one day, Liam, you'll get restless again. One day, the work will dry up, or the house will feel too small, or you'll look at the mess of raising a teenager and you'll pack your bag and run back to Montana! That's what you do! You build things, and when they get hard, you tear them down!"
"I won't," I choked out, falling to my knees on the rug before her. I didn't care about my dignity anymore. I had none left. "Lauren, I swear to you, I will buy a house on the next street. I will never speak to him without your permission. I will pay for his college, his clothes, his food. Just... please don't make me be a dead man to him anymore."
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Lauren looked down at me, her face contorted with agony. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came.
From outside, through the muffled roar of the storm, came the distinct, heavy rumble of a diesel engine idling in the driveway.
