Liam grew up watching me hustle, never complaining, always helping. By fifteen, he was fixing cars; by seventeen, he bought his own truck with cash he earned himself. On his eighteenth birthday, when I asked what he wanted, he looked at me and said, “I want to see Grandpa.” My breath caught. The man who turned his back on us? Why?
I watched from the car as Liam knocked, holding a small box. My father opened the door and stared at him—then recognition hit. Liam looked him dead in the eye and said, “I forgive you. But next time I knock, it’ll be as your biggest competition.” When he got back in the car, he said softly, “Your turn to let go now, Mom.” And sitting beside the man I raised from nothing, I finally did.
