Chapter 6 - Shadows of the Past
Despite the medical turnaround, Ethan’s recovery was as much psychological as it was physical.
One evening in early December, as snow began to dust the city streets outside, I found Ethan sitting at his bedroom window, staring out at the courtyard with a distant look in his eyes.
I knocked softly on the open door and stepped inside, holding a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies.
"Penny for your thoughts, captain," I said gently, setting the plate on his bedside table.
Ethan picked up a cookie, turning it over in his fingers. "Dad... do you remember when you used to stay late at the office every night?"
My chest tightened. "I do, Ethan. And I am so sorry for every single minute I missed."
"I wasn't mad that you were working," he confessed quietly, looking up at me with eyes that were far too wise for an eight-year-old. "I was scared. When Mom passed away, it felt like you were trying to fix everything with money because you were afraid if you stopped moving, you'd have to feel sad. I didn't want to bother you with my pain, because I thought my pain was just another thing you couldn't fix."
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The brutal honesty hit me like a physical blow. He had protected me from his suffering because he thought my emotional capacity had an expiration date.
I sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling him into my arms and holding him tighter than I ever had in my life. "You never have to protect me from your pain again, son. We carry it together. From now on, nothing comes before you."
