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“Okay,” he says, tone shifting. “You good?”

I lean my head back against the seat, eyes on the endless stretch of highway ahead. “What do you think about Mom coming back into our lives? Should we forgive her?”

There’s a pause. Then a long exhale. “It’s really up to you, son.”

“No.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I just realized I’ve been acting selfish. It’s not up to me alone. It’s up to us. She didn’t just leave me—she left you, too. You were hurt. You loved her.”

“And I continued to… for many years,” he says quietly. “Until I didn’t anymore. There’s no coming back into my life. That door is closed. I’ve moved on. Forgave her a long time ago.”

“Oh,” I say, swallowing around the sudden tightness in my throat.

“But my forgiveness timeline can’t be the same as yours,” he adds. “Take as much time as you need. You were a child. It hit you most.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want to hold onto the hurt anymore.”

“Then forgive, son.” His voice softens. “You’re a big boy now. You can hold your own. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means releasing the pain. You don’t have to call her ‘Mom’ or act like you’ve known her your whole life. But maybe… a conversation? A start?”

I sit in silence for a second, the idea turning in my chest like something raw and new. “And you’re sure this is okay? Having her around won’t hurt you or anything?”

He huffs a dry laugh. “I’m good, son. Truly.”

“Okay.” I nod slowly. “Maybe you should take her up on that request to meet. We can sit down. Talk. No expectations. Just… see where it leads.”

“All right. I’ll give her a call later.”

“Thanks, Dad.” My voice cracks a little. “I love you. Thank you for everything. For not abandoning me.”

He chuckles, warm and proud. “I love you too, son.”

After the call with Dad, I feel… lighter. Like something’s been lifted off my chest. A weight I’ve carried for years, maybe. For the first time in a long while, I smile—really smile. I feel warm and fuzzy and happy.

Without overthinking it, I call Brody.

He picks up, groaning. “Man, I’m on a date. What?”

“Ew,” I say immediately. “Someone agreed to date you?”

“Man,what?” he gasps.

“Forget that,” I say. “We’re flying to Bardstown.”

“Why? Nova said Mia quit already. What’s the point?”

“I’m going after her.”

“You can’t do that,” he says, turning serious in the way only Brody can—loud and chaotic. “She can choose to quit if she wants. There’s nothing in the contract that says she can’t. And she’s a grown woman and?—”

“Jeez, you’re a dummy,” I cut in, laughing. “I’m not flying down there for business. I’m going after her ’cause I love her, man.”

Silence. Then a dramatic gasp. “Oh my goodness. I knew it. I knew it! I could tell! The looks, the tension, the attitude—you were so gone.”

I’m grinning like an idiot now.

“When are we leaving?” he asks.

“Soon. But I’ll need your help.” I pause. “When your date is over, come by. We need to plan.”

“Got it.”