find a safer way. »
He began crying again.
The next morning, Michael was stable enough for a brief visit.
Denise entered his room first.
Cole followed, gripping her hand.
Nathan and I waited outside.
Through the partially open door, I heard Michael begin to cry.
« I’m sorry, Denise. »
She didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said something I’ll never forget.
« You owe me explanations, Michael. But you owe our son something more. »
« What? »
« You owe him the chance to be sixteen. »
There was a long silence.
Then Cole whispered, « Dad, I thought you were going to die. »
Michael’s voice broke.
« I know, son. And I’m sorry I made you carry that fear. »
Over the following weeks, Denise arranged professional support for Michael while keeping firm boundaries.
She didn’t pretend the past had disappeared.
And she didn’t promise to take him back.
But she made certain Cole knew his father’s illness wasn’t
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