Jason Blake returned home that evening, the quiet of the house settling around him. Marina hadn’t arrived yet, and he quietly walked to Ryan’s room. The boy was asleep, crutches neatly set beside the bed, ready for another day of exercises. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, watching his son breathe gently. He marveled at how much Ryan had grown without him noticing, how brave and determined his son had become. Pulling out his phone, he canceled his meetings for the next morning and sent messages rescheduling calls. For the first time in years, he prioritized family over work.
“You’re home early,” she said, shrugging off her coat. “Something changed,”
Jason replied. “I want to talk about Ryan and us, about how things have been handled here.”
Marina exhaled. “If this is about more therapy…” “It’s not about therapy. It’s about Tracy.” Her eyebrows raised. “Tracy?” “Yes, she helps Ryan every day with his exercises.”
Marina looked away. “I thought you already knew.” “Then why didn’t you tell me?” “Because I thought you’d worry about responsibilities, about everything,” she admitted. “Jason, she makes him happy. She gives him hope.”
Jason listened, feeling the weight of his absence in their lives. “When was the last time we talked about anything besides schedules and appointments?” Marina asked, walking slowly around the room.
“I don’t remember,” he admitted. “Exactly,” she said softly. “I’ve been raising Ryan mostly on my own, and Tracy has been my support. You need to see that too.”
Jason felt guilt and clarity merge. “I want to change that,” he said firmly. “Change what?” she asked. “Everything. I want to be present for Ryan, for you, for our family.”
Marina studied him skeptically. “You’ve said that before,” she whispered. “But today, I truly saw Ryan. And if I don’t act now, I’ll miss the most important moments of his life.”
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