Chapter 2: The Father Who Was Missing
Ethan stared at the letter like it was something dangerous.
His fingers trembled slightly.
“Where did you get this?”” he asked.
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because I knew that letter was going to open a door none of us could close.
Claire looked at me with worried eyes.
“David…”
I shook my head.
“No. He deserves the truth.””
Ethan looked between us.
“What truth?””
I pulled out a chair and sat down.
For the first time that night, I wasn’t looking at him like an angry father.
I was looking at him like someone who needed to understand why he had been hurting the people who loved him.
“Your father sent that letter three years ago.””
Ethan’s eyebrows lifted.
“Three years?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t I see it?””
I looked at Claire.
She looked down.
And that was when Ethan realized something was wrong.
“Mom?””
Claire wiped her eyes.
“Ethan…”
“No. Tell me.””
She took a deep breath.
“Your father didn’t send it because he wanted to rebuild your relationship.””
Ethan tightened his grip on the paper.
“Then why?””
I answered.
“Because he needed money.””
The anger returned to Ethan’s face.
“That’s a lie.””
“I wish it was.””
I stood up and walked toward the cabinet where I kept old documents.
I pulled out a folder.
Inside were old messages, missed calls, and paperwork from years ago.
Things I never showed Ethan because I didn’t want him to hate his father.
I didn’t want to poison his heart.
But maybe protecting him from the truth had only allowed him to create a fantasy.
I placed the folder on the table.
“Your father contacted your mother when he needed help.””
Ethan looked through the pages.
His eyes moved faster.
“He said he wanted to see me.””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t he?””
I stayed quiet.
Because the answer hurt.
“Because after your mother told him he needed to be consistent, he stopped responding.””
Ethan’s face slowly changed.
The anger was still there.
But confusion had started replacing it.
“He told me he missed me.””
“I believe he did.””
That surprised him.
I continued.
“But missing someone and being there for someone are two different things.””
The room became quiet.
Ethan sat down.
For the first time all night, he looked seventeen.
Not angry.
Not rebellious.
Just lost.
“I thought you hated him,” he whispered.
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me?””
I looked at the family photos on the wall.
“Because I knew what it felt like to lose a parent.””
Ethan looked up.
I rarely talked about my own childhood.
“My father left when I was young,” I said.
“And I spent years wondering what I did wrong.””
Ethan listened carefully.
“I didn’t want you growing up believing you weren’t loved.””
His eyes became glossy.
“But you weren’t supposed to replace him,” he said quietly.
“I know.””
That answer seemed to surprise him.
I leaned against the table.
“I never tried to be your biological father, Ethan.””
“Then what were you trying to be?””
I looked at him.
“Someone who showed up.””
The words stayed in the air.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Ethan looked down at the letter again.
“Did he ever ask about me?””
The question was softer this time.
I knew he wasn’t asking about Marcus anymore.
He was asking about himself.
I opened my mouth to answer.
But before I could say anything, Ethan’s phone suddenly buzzed on the table.
He looked at the screen.
His entire expression changed.
Because the message wasn’t from a friend.
It wasn’t from school.
It was from a number he hadn’t saved.
A number he somehow recognized immediately.
Ethan slowly whispered:
“It’s him.””
Claire stepped closer.
“Who?””
Ethan turned the phone around.
And the message on the screen made my heart sink.
It only contained one sentence.
“Son, I need to tell you what really happened.””
But underneath that message was something even more shocking.
A photo attachment.
A photo of me.
And Marcus standing together years ago.
May you like
A moment Ethan had never seen before.
A moment that could change everything he believed about his real father.
