Chapter 6
The insurance money was the last thing on my mind. All I cared about was Lila and Leo, and somehow fixing the broken pieces of our family.
Richard was quieter after court. He stayed out of Lila’s way, eating his meals in his study, going to bed early. He never said a kind word to her, never looked at Leo for more than a second. But he stopped calling her names. He stopped threatening to kick her out.
It was a start.
One night, about a week after court, I woke up at 2 AM. The house was quiet, but I had a feeling something was wrong. I got out of bed, pulling on my robe, and walked down the hall to the nursery.
The door was open a crack.
I peeked inside.
Richard was standing over Leo’s crib.
He was in his pajamas, his hair messy, his shoulders hunched. He had one hand resting lightly on the rail of the crib, staring down at Leo, who was fast asleep, his thumb in his mouth.
I didn’t move. I didn’t make a sound.
Then Richard spoke. His voice was so low, so broken, I almost didn’t hear it.
“I’m so sorry, little guy,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I was too stupid and too proud to see you. Your dad… your dad was the best thing that ever happened to me. And I threw it all away. I made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Like nothing he did would ever make me proud.”
He paused, wiping a hand over his face.
“I should have been there for him,” he said, his voice cracking. “I should have loved him no matter what. And now it’s too late. But I swear to you, Leo… I’m not gonna make the same mistake with you. I’m gonna be the grandpa you deserve. I’m gonna love you so much your dad will be proud, wherever he is.”
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Leo’s forehead.
Then he turned around.
He saw me standing in the doorway.
He froze, his face red, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. He opened his mouth to say something, then just shook his head and walked past me, back to his room.
I stood there for a long time, looking at Leo, who was still sleeping peacefully, a tiny smile on his face.
The next morning, I came down to the kitchen to find a small bag on the table. It was from the baby store downtown, the expensive one I’d been meaning to go to.
Inside was a tiny blue onesie, soft as cloud, with little paintbrushes printed all over it. Ethan’s favorite color blue.
There was no note. But I knew who it was from.
Lila came down a few minutes later, holding Leo. She saw the bag, looked inside, and her eyes filled with tears.
She looked up the stairs, toward Richard’s study.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, even though he couldn’t hear her.
That afternoon, Richard came home from work. He was carrying a flat box, wrapped in brown paper. He walked straight to the living room, where Lila and I were sitting on the floor, playing with Leo.
He set the box on the coffee table, not looking at any of us.
“Brought this home,” he mumbled. “Saw it at the hardware store. Thought… thought Leo might like it someday.”
I opened the box.
It was a wooden crib. Hand-carved, the wood smooth and warm. Along the side, carved in tiny, perfect letters: Leo Ethan Carter. Loved always.
I looked up at Richard. His face was red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“You made this?” I asked, my voice shaking.
He nodded, still not looking at us. “Used to make furniture, before I got busy with work. Haven’t done it in years. Figured… figured it was time to start again.”
Lila stood up, holding Leo. She walked over to Richard, stopping a few feet away.
“Thank you,” she said, softly but clearly. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Richard finally looked at her. Then he looked at Leo, who was staring up at him, blinking those big brown eyes.
Leo smiled. That dimple popped.
May you like
Richard’s face crumpled. For a second, I thought he’d cry. Then he just nodded, turned around, and walked out to the garage to get his tools.
That night, as we put the crib together in the nursery, Richard laughing softly when he dropped a screw, Lila holding the flashlight, Leo asleep in my arms… for the first time since Ethan died, the house felt like a home again.
