This time, he came alone.
He looked exhausted.
He sat across from me at the kitchen table and apologized.
He admitted that his debts were worse than anyone had realized and that Susan had insisted he seek professional help managing them.
Then he said something I never expected.
“Dad, I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
I looked at him for a long time.
“You’re my son, Daniel. I’ll always love you. But loving you doesn’t mean allowing you to hurt me.”
He nodded, crying quietly.
I told him that rebuilding our relationship would take time.
He would need to be honest, respect my boundaries, and accept that my money was mine to manage.
He agreed.
I don’t know whether our relationship will ever be what it once was.
Some wounds don’t heal overnight.
But I’m still here.
I’m still living in the home where Margaret and I built our life together.
