“So, you left.”
“I did but not before going to a lawyer. I wasn’t leaving without my boys. I didn’t care about anything else, but I wanted you and Chase with me,” she says.
“Then what happened? Why did you leave us with him?”
She sighs. “The day I was set to leave, I had three bags packed, one for each of us, but he stopped me in the driveway with the sheriff at his side. He served me papers. They stated that I was free to take Chase, but you had to stay because you weren’t legally my son. He went as far as also to have it written in the papers that once I left, Chase would no longer be his responsibility and was not to have any knowledge or future contact with his brother…with you. Also, that as per the prenuptial agreement, I left with nothing, not even the cabin as I had
signed it over to him when we did the renovations. He then threatened that when I couldn’t feed my own child, he would have him removed from my care and put into the system. He wasn’t even going to help with Chase. Right there, I called my lawyer. He had also received the same paperwork and outright told me your father had all the power and that there was nothing I could do. Dylan, I had nothing. He was right; I wasn’t going to be able to feed myself, let alone a child. So, when I looked to Chase in my arms and down to you still with your hand in mine, I knew if I couldn’t have both of you in my life, you could at least have
each other. I was defeated, and your father knew it. He wasn’t going to let me back in; he made that very clear, so I left—alone.”
“And you never looked back.”
“I did look back, every day of my life. The one thing that your father didn’t know was that in that house, I had one person, a friend.”
When I look in her eyes, I know. “Connie.”
She nods. “Yes. Knowing that she was the one that would be raising you and Chase. Knowing that you had her gave me peace.” She reaches for her purse pulling out a folded manilla envelope and handing it to me. “Every school picture, birthday cake, soccer game, or school project, Connie would send me the memory one way or another.”
I open the envelope pulling out a pile of pictures and children’s artwork. “Is this ours?”
Sarah nods. “Every time she replaced yours and Chase’s artwork on the fridge, she would send me the old one with a little story about it on the back—I kept every single one.”
I look back down to the pile in my hands then drop it on the coffee table. “Explain the money. You said my father sent you off with nothing.”
“He did, initially. But I ended up going back to my lawyer about the cabin, It had been in my family for decades. But I couldn’t get it back. However, the judge did order him to pay me. Not the outcome I’d wanted, but I did make an additional request. I asked the judge if he was to keep it, then I would like it to be in yours, and Chase’s name. Also, that he couldn’t sell it and that only once you were both eighteen, could you decide if you wanted to keep it or not. I pleaded that it had been in the family forever and that if it wer lest to you boys, it would remain that way. Your father agreed to the terms; he hated the cabin anyway, and when he wrote the check he added a few zeros. He wanted to hand it to me personally, and when he did, I’ll never forget his words. He said, ‘Do you see that number? I keep that rolled up in my sock drawer for poker nights. I can destroy you and anyone you love, and trust me, I will.’ I knew what he meant and that he could, and would do it.” She pauses a moment. “Dylan, I deposited that check into an account, files the papers away in a drawer, and never looked at it or accessed it until I learned that you had sold the cabin. That money was always going to be for you and Chase when I knew that your father couldn’t hurt you anymore, but I was too late.” Sarah lets out a breath. “This place is still yours, Dylan. I’ll be transferring the title back to you later today. Do with it what you please, but know this. This cabin will always be the one place your father will never have any reach.”
Having said all she can, she stands from the chair and heads to the door. Before she leaves, she turns back. “I would love to have you in my life
again. You may not think so, but to me, you are still and will always be my son, the only one I have left. My door and heart will always be open to you.”
My mind was reeling. I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to be thinking or feeling. The only thing I did know was that whatever it was
