Chapter 24 - THE DAY RYAN STOPPED APOLOGIZING
One afternoon, Ryan came home from therapy unusually quiet.
I found him sitting on the back porch.
“What happened?”
He stared at the yard.
“My therapist asked me why I keep apologizing.”
I sat beside him.
“What did you say?”
“That I hurt people.”
“And?”
“He said there's a difference between responsibility and punishment.”
Ryan looked at me.
“I think I've been punishing myself because it feels easier than changing.”
I understood.
Guilt had become his second prison.
He had escaped Diane's house only to build another one inside himself.
“You are responsible for what happened,” I said.
“I know.”
“But you don't have to spend the rest of your life proving you're sorry.”
He looked at me.
“How do I know when I've done enough?”
“You don't.”
He frowned.
“You keep doing the next right thing.”
He laughed softly.
“Of course.”
I smiled.
“Of course.”
That night, Ryan cooked dinner.
He burned the chicken.
Noah declared it “crispy.”
We ate anyway.
And for once, Ryan didn't apologize five times for a small mistake.
He simply laughed.
That was when I realized something had changed.
He wasn't just becoming a better father.
May you like
He was becoming a person who no longer needed fear to tell him who he was.
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