“Money, probably. Forgiveness, maybe. Attention, definitely.”
I almost smiled.
“You know him well.”
“I know men with shrinking options.”
In the end, I agreed to one meeting.
Eleanor present.
Recorded.
At her office.
Colton looked older.
Still handsome, but thinned out in a way that made his old confidence seem like a suit hanging on the wrong body. He had lost hair at the temples. His watch was modest. His eyes, once so bright with superiority, darted around the room like he expected the furniture to judge him.
He sat across from me.
“Julian.”
“Colton.”
He swallowed.
“I’m sick.”
“I heard.”
“Stage three.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked startled.
Maybe he expected coldness.
I could feel sorry for him without opening my wallet or childhood.
“I don’t have insurance that covers everything.”
“There it is.”
His face tightened.
“I came to apologize.”
“You came to ask.”
His anger flashed.
Old Colton, still alive.
Then it faded.
“Yes,” he said. “Both.”
At least that was honest.
He told me about Titan.
More documents.
More people involved.
He had kept copies because betrayers often understand betrayal may become currency later. The information helped Horizon close a settlement worth far more than his medical bills.
I paid those bills.
Not directly to him.
Directly to the hospital.
Eleanor drafted an agreement: no admission of familial obligation, no further financial support implied, all communications through counsel.
Colton signed.
Then he looked at me.
“Did you ever love me?”
The question surprised me.
Not because he asked.
Because I had no prepared answer.
“I think I tried,” I said.
His eyes filled.
That hurt more than I wanted it to.
“I was horrible to you,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Because I thought if you were nothing, then me being more mattered.”
That was the most honest thing he had ever said to me.
“Yes,” I said. “I know.”
He wiped his face quickly, embarrassed by tears.
“I’m sorry about the cake.”
Of all things.
The cake.
I looked at him.
“Which one?”
He laughed once, broken.
“All of them, I guess.”
I did not forgive him that day.
But something unclenched.
Not for him.
For me.
Colton survived cancer.
