James sat in his quiet living room, staring at another letter addressed to his estranged son, Andrew. Years had passed since their last conversation—years since the rift between them had torn their relationship apart. With a heavy sigh, James licked the stamp and pressed it onto the envelope.
For over a decade, he had sent letters, hoping for reconciliation, but there was never a reply. Not a word.
As James sifted through his mail one day, an envelope caught his attention. Trembling, he tore it open to find a Polaroid. It showed Andrew, smiling with his arm around his wife, their two sons in front of them, beaming with pride. For a moment, hope flickered inside him. Could this be Andrew’s way of reaching out, of healing the broken bond?
But when James flipped the photo, his heart sank. Scrawled on the back were words that cut deeper than silence: “James, you’ll never be a part of this family. Stop sending me letters. Soon, nobody will be here to receive them at this address.”
James’s breath caught in his throat. Were they moving? Was this Andrew’s final way of cutting ties? The cryptic message gnawed at him, demanding answers.
The next morning, James made up his mind. He packed a bag, got in his car, and began the eight-hour drive to Andrew’s home.
As the miles passed, memories of their fractured relationship resurfaced, especially the painful argument that had torn them apart.
Ten years earlier, James had been home when Andrew walked in, his face dark with anger.
“What the hell is going on here?” Andrew’s voice boomed, startling James. He scrambled to pull on his shirt, his face flushing with guilt. The woman beside him—his secretary—hurriedly gathered her things and fled.
“Andrew, it’s not what it looks like,” James stammered, desperate.
Andrew’s glare burned through him. “You’re in Mom’s bed—with your secretary—while she’s in the hospital fighting for her life? You disgust me.”
“Please, don’t tell your mother,” James begged. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
Andrew’s face twisted with fury. “You don’t deserve her. I won’t tell her. But you’ll be there with her until the end. And then you’ll stay out of my life.”
Three months later, Vivienne passed away. At her funeral, Andrew delivered a heartfelt eulogy, bringing everyone to tears—everyone except James, who stood silently in the corner, unable to meet his son’s gaze. Afterward, Andrew approached him.
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