Chapter 10: The Man Who Stayed
Marcus barely slept that night.
Raymond's confession kept replaying in his head.
I promised him that if he ever proved he could provide a stable home for Jordan, I would help him become part of the boy's life.
By sunrise, Marcus had read the threatening text message so many times that he knew every word by heart. The photograph of Jordan's cardboard stadium sat on his phone, a reminder that someone had crossed a line no family disagreement could excuse.
At six thirty, he heard footsteps in the hallway.
Jordan appeared in the living room wearing his favorite Atlanta Braves T-shirt, his hair sticking up on one side.
"Dad?""
Marcus locked his phone and looked up.
"Morning, buddy.""
"Did you sleep on the couch?""
"Couldn't get comfortable in bed.""
Jordan studied him for a moment.
"Are you worried about Saturday?""
Marcus patted the cushion beside him.
Jordan sat down.
"Yeah," Marcus admitted.
"A little.""
"Are you worried because Toulouse is my real dad?""
Marcus turned toward him.
"No. I'm worried because some adults are making decisions without thinking about how those decisions affect you.""
Jordan picked at a loose thread on his shirt.
"Grandpa Raymond said Toulouse told him I wanted to live with him.""
"Did you tell Toulouse that?""
"No.""
"Did you tell anyone that you wanted to leave this house?""
Jordan shook his head.
Marcus rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Then that's what matters. Your feelings deserve to be heard. You don't have to say what somebody wants to hear just to keep them happy.""
Jordan looked at him.
"What if Toulouse gets mad?""
"That's for Toulouse to manage. Not you.""
For several seconds, Jordan said nothing.
Then he leaned against Marcus.
"Can we still go to the batting cages this weekend?""
Marcus smiled faintly.
"Absolutely.""
"Even if everything gets messed up?""
"Especially then.""
Jordan wrapped his arms around him.
Marcus held him tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of laundry detergent and the faint smell of the chocolate cereal Jordan had eaten before bed.
For eight years, Marcus had thought fatherhood meant knowing how to fix things. A broken bicycle chain. A bad report card.
A fever at two in the morning. A missed fly ball that left his son crying in the dugout.
Now he understood something harder.
Sometimes being a father meant standing beside a child while the world tried to convince him that the people he loved were interchangeable.
And sometimes it meant admitting that he couldn't control the outcome.
He could only control whether he showed up.
A bedroom door opened.
Vanessa appeared in the hallway, her face pale from another sleepless night.
"Jordan," she said gently, "why don't you get dressed? I'll make you breakfast.""
Jordan stood.
"Can I have pancakes?""
Vanessa managed a small smile.
"Yes, sweetheart.""
He disappeared down the hallway.
Vanessa waited until his bedroom door closed before approaching Marcus.
"I spoke with Raymond this morning," she said.
Marcus looked up.
"What did he say?""
"He's agreed to meet with us and Evelyn before the family event. He wants to give us copies of everything he has, including the original letter Toulouse claims I signed.""
"Good.""
Vanessa sat across from him.
"And he told me something else.""
Marcus waited.
"That promise he made to Toulouse? He said it was based on a condition that Toulouse would demonstrate stability, respect our family boundaries, and never use Jordan's inheritance to pressure him.""
Marcus frowned.
"Has Toulouse done any of that?""
"No.""
"Then Raymond needs to understand that the condition hasn't been met.""
Vanessa nodded.
"I think he does now.""
She looked down at her hands.
"I also need to tell you something.""
Marcus felt the familiar tension return to his shoulders.
"What?""
"When Toulouse first contacted me, I was angry with you.""
Marcus went still.
"About what?""
Vanessa's eyes filled.
"About how things had changed between us. We were arguing about money, about your hours at work, about how exhausted we both were. I felt like we were becoming roommates who happened to raise a child together.""
Marcus stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"I tried. But every time I brought it up, we ended up arguing about who was doing more.""
He looked away.
She was right about that.
They had both been tired. They had both been keeping score.
Vanessa continued.
"When Toulouse appeared, he told me he could make everything easier. He said Raymond could provide opportunities for Jordan that we couldn't. He said I wouldn't have to fight so hard to give our son a future.""
"And you believed him.""
"I wanted to believe him.""
She wiped her cheeks.
"I was so focused on what Jordan might gain that I stopped asking what he might lose.""
Marcus leaned back.
For the first time, Vanessa wasn't trying to defend the choices she'd made. She was explaining them without pretending they hadn't caused harm.
It didn't repair the damage.
But it gave them somewhere honest to begin.
"I can't promise we'll be okay," Marcus said.
Vanessa nodded.
"I know.""
"But I can promise that if we work through this, it won't be by hiding things from each other anymore.""
"I want that.""
"Then we start there.""
From the kitchen came the sound of a pan clattering against the stove.
Jordan shouted, "Mom! The pancake is doing something weird!""
Vanessa hurried toward the kitchen.
Marcus heard her laugh for the first time in days.
A moment later, Jordan called out, "Dad! Come help! Mom's trying to turn it over!""
Marcus rose and walked toward the kitchen.
For a few minutes, there were only pancakes, spilled batter, and Jordan insisting that the first one looked like the state of Texas.
It wasn't a solution.
It was a family having breakfast.
And for that morning, it was enough.
At ten thirty, Marcus, Vanessa, and Evelyn Price met Raymond at his attorney's office in Atlanta.
Raymond stood when they entered.
He was taller than Marcus expected, with silver hair and a carefully pressed suit. His face carried the weariness of a man who had spent years convincing himself that money could repair what absence had broken.
"Vanessa," he said.
She stopped a few feet from him.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Raymond took a cautious step forward.
"I know I don't have the right to ask you to forgive me.""
Vanessa swallowed.
"No. You don't.""
He nodded.
"I understand.""
She studied his face.
"Why didn't you come sooner?""
Raymond looked down.
"Because your mother asked me to respect your wishes. And because I was ashamed of the choices I'd made when you were young.""
"Then why did you let Toulouse become involved?""
"I thought I could resolve an old dispute without dragging you into it. I believed the agreement would settle everything.""
"It didn't.""
"No.""
Raymond sat at the conference table.
"And I should have contacted you directly when Toulouse began making claims about Jordan.""
Marcus took the chair beside Vanessa.
Evelyn opened her folder.
"Let's establish what we know and what remains unverified," she said.
"We have the original agreement between Raymond and Toulouse, records of the payment, the disputed letter, and evidence suggesting that Vanessa's signature was reproduced without her permission.""
Raymond nodded.
"My attorney has confirmed that the letter was submitted to my office as part of Toulouse's proposal.""
"Did you authorize him to represent you?"" Marcus asked.
"No. I never authorized him to make decisions about Jordan's residence or claim that I had approved a relocation plan.""
"Then why did he tell Vanessa that you wanted Jordan to live with him?""
Raymond looked at his hands.
"Because I made the mistake of telling Toulouse that I hoped he would eventually develop a genuine relationship with his son. I thought I was encouraging reconciliation. He interpreted it as permission to negotiate on my behalf.""
"Or pretended he did," Marcus said.
Raymond didn't argue.
Evelyn placed a document in front of him.
"Before we discuss any future contact, we need to address the threats directed at the family.""
Raymond read the message Marcus had received.
His face hardened.
"Did Toulouse send this?""
"We don't have independent confirmation of the sender's identity yet," Evelyn replied.
"But the message is being preserved, and Marcus is taking appropriate precautions.""
Raymond pushed the phone back across the table.
"Then I will make one thing clear. No one will use my name to threaten this child or his family.""
Marcus looked at him steadily.
"That's a good place to start.""
Raymond opened his briefcase and removed a sealed envelope.
"This is the original letter Vanessa sent me twelve years ago.""
He slid it across the table.
Vanessa stared at her own handwriting.
She recognized the uneven loop in the letter g, the way she crossed her ts, and the small indentation where she'd pressed too hard with her pen.
She read the letter silently.
Then she began again, this time aloud.
Father,
I understand that you want to know Jordan. I have not forgotten that you are his biological grandfather, and I will not pretend that your relationship with me never existed.
She paused, breathing unevenly.
But Jordan already has a father who loves him. Marcus has been there for the sleepless nights, the doctor's appointments, the school mornings, and the tears that come when a little boy thinks he's failed at something important.
Marcus lowered his eyes.
Vanessa continued.
If you choose to become part of Jordan's life, please do so because you want to know him, not because you believe money gives you a claim over him.
Her voice broke.
I will not ask my son to choose between the people he loves. I hope you will never ask that of him either.
At the bottom, she'd written:
I am not closing the door forever. I am asking you to knock gently.
Vanessa set the letter down.
Raymond's eyes were wet.
"Your mother asked me to wait until you were ready," he said.
"I thought I was respecting her wishes. But I let years pass because waiting was easier than facing the possibility that you might never want me in your life.""
Vanessa looked at him.
"I might have said no.""
"I know.""
"But you never gave me the chance to answer.""
"No," Raymond admitted.
"I didn't.""
The room fell quiet.
Then Raymond removed another document from his briefcase.
"This is the letter Toulouse submitted last month.""
Vanessa read the first paragraph.
It claimed she had decided that Marcus's involvement in Jordan's life was becoming an obstacle to the boy's development. It stated that she supported a transition to Toulouse's household and believed Raymond's financial resources would provide a more appropriate environment.
At the bottom was a signature that looked almost exactly like hers.
Vanessa pushed the paper away.
"I never wrote this.""
"I believe you," Raymond said.
Evelyn placed both letters side by side.
"We're preserving these for independent examination. We won't make assumptions about who physically prepared the document until the evidence supports that conclusion.""
Marcus appreciated her precision.
They had spent days being pulled into accusations and promises. Now, for the first time, someone was insisting that the facts mattered more than the loudest voice in the room.
Raymond looked at Marcus.
"I want you to understand something. I don't believe a grandfather's wealth makes him a better parent. I don't believe a biological relationship automatically entitles someone to take over a child's life.""
"Then why did you make that promise to Toulouse?""
Raymond looked ashamed.
"Because I wanted to believe he could become the father he had failed to be. I thought that if I gave him a chance, he might finally take responsibility.""
Marcus leaned forward.
"That's your decision to make about your relationship with him. But Jordan isn't a second chance for Toulouse. He's a child.""
"You're right.""
"And he isn't an investment that needs to be moved into the household with the most resources.""
Raymond nodded slowly.
"I see that now.""
Marcus studied him.
"Then here's what I need from you. If you want a relationship with Jordan, it has to begin with honesty. No private promises.
No financial offers that make him feel he owes you something. No arrangements made through Toulouse.""
Raymond listened carefully.
"And if Jordan wants to meet me?""
"Then we discuss it with him, in a way that's appropriate for his age. We don't promise him things we can't guarantee, and we don't make him responsible for adult feelings.""
Raymond extended his hand.
"Agreed.""
Marcus shook it.
It wasn't forgiveness.
It was a boundary.
And for now, a boundary was more useful than another promise.
Toulouse arrived at Raymond's office forty minutes later.
He walked in wearing a charcoal suit and carrying the same leather folder Marcus remembered from their first confrontation. He stopped when he saw the documents spread across the conference table.
"What is this?"" Toulouse demanded.
Raymond stood.
"An accounting of what has happened.""
Toulouse looked at Vanessa.
"You've turned this into a legal fight.""
Vanessa rose slowly.
"No, Toulouse. You did that when you submitted a letter I never wrote.""
His jaw tightened.
"I was trying to create a stable future for my son.""
Marcus stood beside her.
"Then why did you send someone to photograph our house?""
Toulouse's eyes flickered toward him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.""
Marcus placed the printed message on the table.
"You can explain that to the appropriate authorities.""
Toulouse glanced at the page, then looked away.
Raymond's voice hardened.
"You represented yourself as my authorized intermediary. You submitted documents claiming Vanessa had approved a relocation plan. You used my name to support arrangements I never authorized.""
"I was acting on the spirit of our agreement.""
"No," Raymond said.
"You were acting on your interpretation of a promise that had conditions you ignored.""
Toulouse opened his folder.
"Raymond, you told me that if I could prove I was capable of providing for Jordan, you would help me become part of his life.""
"I told you I would support a genuine relationship if you respected the family Jordan already had. I did not promise you custody. I did not authorize you to fabricate a letter. And I never said you could use money to pressure the boy.""
Toulouse looked toward Marcus.
"Of course you'd say that. You have everything to lose if Jordan discovers what I can offer him.""
Marcus remained still.
"I have something to lose every day I raise him. That's what being a father means.""
Toulouse gave a short, humorless laugh.
"You think sitting through baseball games makes you his father?""
Marcus stepped closer to the table.
"No. I think being the person he looks for when he's frightened makes me his father. I think being the one who helps him with homework when he'd rather be playing video games makes me his father. I think being the person who stays when things become difficult makes me his father.""
He paused.
"And I think a child deserves to know his biological father without being told that knowing him requires abandoning the man who raised him.""
Toulouse's expression changed.
For a moment, the confidence slipped.
Then he turned toward Vanessa.
"You were unhappy in your marriage. You told me yourself that Marcus was never home enough.""
Vanessa flinched, but she didn't look away.
"I told you I was struggling. I did not give you permission to use my pain against my family.""
"I offered you a better life.""
"You offered me a solution that required me to pretend the life I already had was worthless.""
Toulouse shook his head.
"You don't understand the opportunities Jordan could have.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"I understand that opportunities don't mean anything if a child believes he's being traded between adults.""
Raymond closed the folder in front of him.
"This conversation is over unless you are prepared to discuss a relationship with Jordan without conditions or financial pressure.""
Toulouse looked from Raymond to Vanessa, then to Marcus.
"And if I refuse?""
"Then all further communication will proceed through the appropriate legal channels," Evelyn said.
"Any disputed documents, threats, or claims of authorization will be addressed through the proper process.""
Toulouse's fingers tightened around his folder.
He looked at Marcus one last time.
"You think you've won.""
Marcus shook his head.
"This isn't a competition.""
Toulouse gave a bitter laugh.
"Everything is a competition when a child has something worth fighting for.""
Marcus answered quietly.
"That's why you keep losing sight of the child.""
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Toulouse picked up his folder and walked out.
The door closed behind him.
Vanessa sank into her chair.
Raymond stood by the window, looking down at the street.
Marcus remained beside the table, feeling no triumph, only exhaustion.
The confrontation had not solved everything. The disputed documents still needed examination. The threatening message still needed to be investigated. Any future relationship between Toulouse and Jordan would require careful boundaries and decisions made with the child's welfare at the center.
But one thing had changed.
For the first time since Toulouse appeared, nobody in the room was pretending that his promises were more important than Jordan's feelings.
Saturday arrived beneath a bright Georgia sky.
Raymond's family gathering was still scheduled, but the original plan had changed. There would be no announcement about Jordan moving anywhere. There would be no presentation of financial opportunities designed to influence him. There would be no demand that he choose a father.
Instead, Raymond had invited Vanessa, Marcus, and Jordan to have lunch at a small restaurant near a public park.
Jordan spent most of the morning asking whether he needed to dress up.
Marcus told him jeans were fine.
Vanessa packed a small bag with sunscreen and Jordan's baseball glove.
At the restaurant, Raymond was already waiting at a table near the window.
When Jordan entered, the older man stood.
"Hello, Jordan.""
Jordan looked at him carefully.
"Hi.""
Raymond smiled, but he didn't immediately reach for the boy or demand a hug.
"I've heard you like baseball.""
Jordan glanced at Marcus.
"I do.""
"What position do you play?""
"Second base. Sometimes shortstop.""
Raymond nodded.
"I used to play third base when I was young. I wasn't very good.""
Jordan's face brightened slightly.
"Did you practice?""
"Not enough, apparently.""
Jordan laughed.
Marcus watched from beside Vanessa.
It was a small exchange, almost insignificant.
But Raymond had asked a question and waited for the answer. He hadn't mentioned money, opportunities, inheritance, or what Jordan should do with his future.
He had simply tried to talk to him.
During lunch, Jordan asked Raymond about his work, his house, and why he had never visited before.
Raymond answered honestly.
"I made mistakes, Jordan. Some of them were mine, and some came from being afraid to face the people I'd hurt. I can't change those years. But if you're comfortable getting to know me, I'd like to start now.""
Jordan considered that.
"Do I have to call you Grandpa?""
"No, sweetheart. You can call me Raymond until you decide what feels right.""
Jordan nodded.
"Okay.""
After lunch, they walked to the park.
Jordan spotted a small baseball field and immediately asked Marcus if they could throw a ball around.
Marcus took the glove from his bag.
"Let's see that arm, buddy.""
Jordan ran toward the field.
Raymond watched them go.
"He's a good boy," he said.
Marcus followed Jordan with his eyes.
"He's a great boy.""
Raymond hesitated.
"I owe you an apology, too.""
Marcus turned toward him.
"For what?""
"For treating your role in his life as though it were temporary. I thought that because you weren't his biological father, I could make decisions about his future without understanding what you had already given him.""
Marcus studied the older man.
"Why did you believe that?""
Raymond looked down.
"Because I spent years believing blood was the only thing that made a family permanent. It was easier than admitting I'd failed my own daughter.""
Marcus let the silence sit between them.
Then he said, "You can't make up for lost time by demanding a place in his life.""
"I know.""
"But you can start by respecting the place he gives you.""
Raymond nodded.
"I intend to.""
Across the field, Jordan threw a ball toward Marcus.
It sailed several feet to the right.
"Sorry, Dad!""
Marcus caught it on the bounce.
"Don't apologize. Adjust your aim.""
Jordan planted his feet and tried again.
This time, the ball landed cleanly in Marcus's glove.
"That's it!"" Marcus called.
"Do it again.""
Vanessa stood beside Raymond, watching the two of them.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Raymond glanced at her.
"Are you all right?""
She nodded.
"Yes. I think I am.""
For the first time in weeks, the family stood together without pretending that everyone had the same history or the same place in Jordan's life.
They didn't.
Marcus was the father who had raised him.
Toulouse was his biological father, whose future involvement would depend on his actions and the boundaries necessary to protect Jordan.
Raymond was a grandfather who had arrived late and needed to earn trust.
Vanessa was his mother, learning that protecting her child sometimes meant telling the truth even when the truth threatened the life she had built.
And Jordan was still eleven years old.
He still wanted to play baseball, eat pancakes, and stay up too late on Friday nights.
He still needed adults to make decisions that protected him from the consequences of their own mistakes.
He didn't need them to agree about everything.
He needed them to stop making him responsible for their disagreements.
Later that afternoon, after Raymond had said goodbye, Marcus and Vanessa sat on a bench while Jordan practiced throwing the ball against a marked wall.
Vanessa reached for Marcus's hand.
He looked at her but didn't pull away.
"I know I can't undo what happened," she said.
"No.""
"And I know you might need time before you trust me again.""
"Yes.""
She nodded.
"I'll give you that time.""
Marcus watched Jordan retrieve the ball.
"I don't want us to rebuild our marriage just because we're afraid of losing our family.""
Vanessa turned toward him.
"Neither do I.""
"I want us to rebuild it because we're willing to be honest about what went wrong.""
She squeezed his hand.
"Then that's what I'll do.""
He didn't promise that everything would be fine.
He didn't promise that love would erase the hurt.
He simply stayed beside her on the bench while their son played in the afternoon sun.
For the first time in a long time, staying felt like a choice rather than an obligation.
Three weeks later, the document examiner confirmed that the disputed letter contained a signature consistent with having been reproduced from Vanessa's earlier correspondence. The examination did not, by itself, establish who had prepared it or prove Toulouse's personal involvement.
The threatening message was also referred for investigation.
With Evelyn's guidance, the family preserved the original documents, corrected the false impression that Raymond had authorized Toulouse to represent him, and established clear boundaries for any future communication concerning Jordan.
Denise cooperated with the investigation and provided the records she had received from Toulouse's consulting company. She apologized to Vanessa and Marcus without asking them to forgive her immediately.
Raymond arranged for independent trustees to oversee Jordan's educational fund. The money would be used for Jordan's benefit under the fund's governing terms, not as a reward for living with one adult or a weapon against another.
And Toulouse?
He sent Marcus a message asking to speak with Jordan.
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
He discussed it with Vanessa and Evelyn, then asked Jordan how he felt.
Jordan sat at the kitchen table, drawing baseball cards on pieces of paper.
"Do I have to see him?""
"No," Marcus said.
"You don't have to agree to a meeting just because he asks. We can talk about what would make you comfortable.""
Jordan considered it.
"I want to know why he left.""
Marcus nodded.
"That's a fair question.""
"But I don't want him telling me I have to live with him.""
"Then that will be one of the boundaries.""
Jordan looked at Vanessa.
"Can you come with me?""
"Of course," she said.
Jordan looked at Marcus.
"Will you come, too?""
Marcus felt his throat tighten.
"If that's what you want, I'll be there.""
Jordan nodded.
"Okay. Maybe we can meet him for an hour. Somewhere public.""
They arranged a meeting with appropriate support and clear expectations. It wasn't a promise of reconciliation, and it didn't settle every question about Toulouse's future relationship with his son.
It was simply a first step Jordan had chosen for himself.
The night before the meeting, Marcus found Jordan in his bedroom, placing baseball cards into a small plastic binder.
"Hey, buddy. You ready for tomorrow?""
Jordan shrugged.
"Kind of.""
Marcus sat on the edge of the bed.
"There's something I want you to remember.""
Jordan looked up.
"You don't owe anybody a particular feeling. You can be curious. You can be angry.
You can want answers. You can even decide you don't want another meeting. You get to be honest about how you feel.""
Jordan nodded.
"Okay.""
Marcus glanced at the photograph on the dresser.
It was the old baseball picture, the one that had started the argument that nearly broke their family apart.
Jordan had placed it in a new frame.
Beside it sat a recent photograph of Marcus and Jordan at a Braves game, both wearing matching caps and grinning at the camera.
Marcus pointed toward the two pictures.
"Why'd you put those together?""
Jordan shrugged.
"Because they're both part of my story.""
Marcus swallowed.
"That's right.""
Jordan returned to his binder.
Then, without looking up, he said, "Dad?""
"Yeah?""
"If I get to know Toulouse, that doesn't mean you're not my dad, right?""
Marcus moved closer and pulled him into a hug.
"No, buddy. Nothing about learning where you came from changes the years we've spent together.""
Jordan held on tightly.
"Good.""
Marcus kissed the top of his head.
"Good.""
When he finally stood to leave, Jordan called after him.
"Hey, Dad?""
Marcus turned.
"What's up?""
"Can we still go to the batting cages Sunday?""
Marcus smiled.
"Already planned on it.""
Jordan grinned and went back to his cards.
Marcus paused in the doorway, looking at the boy he had helped raise from the time he was three years old.
For eight years, Marcus had believed that being a father meant protecting Jordan from every possible hurt.
Now he understood that he couldn't do that.
He couldn't erase Toulouse's absence. He couldn't undo Vanessa's secrets. He couldn't make Raymond's regrets disappear. And he couldn't guarantee that every adult who entered Jordan's life would behave as they should.
But he could do something that mattered just as much.
He could make sure Jordan never had to earn his love.
He could keep showing up.
He could tell the truth.
And when the world became confusing, he could be the steady voice reminding his son that love wasn't a prize awarded to the person who offered the most money, made the grandest promises, or had the strongest claim by blood.
It was built in ordinary moments.
Homework at the kitchen table.
A hand reaching for his during a thunderstorm.
A seat saved at the baseball field.
Pancakes on Saturday morning.
A promise kept when keeping it became difficult.
The next morning, Marcus stood beside Jordan outside the house while Vanessa locked the front door.
Jordan adjusted his baseball cap.
"You ready?"" Marcus asked.
Jordan took a deep breath.
"Yeah.""
Vanessa reached for her son's hand.
Marcus opened the car door.
Jordan climbed inside, then looked back at the house.
"Dad?""
Marcus leaned down.
"What's up, buddy?""
Jordan smiled.
"Don't sit too far away from me today.""
Marcus felt tears gather in his eyes, but his voice remained steady.
"Never.""
He closed the door gently and walked around to the driver's side.
As he started the engine, he glanced at the photograph resting on the dashboard: Jordan between Marcus and Vanessa at his eighth birthday party, his arms stretched around both of them, his face bright with the uncomplicated happiness of a child who believed his family would always be there.
Marcus knew life would keep changing.
There would be difficult conversations, new questions, and days when the past hurt more than they expected.
But he also knew that the boy in the back seat was not a prize to be won or a debt to be collected.
He was a child.
Their child.
And whatever happened next, Marcus would never again confuse being unable to control the future with being powerless to love him.
He put the car in drive.
Jordan leaned forward between the front seats.
"Hey, Dad?""
Marcus glanced at him in the mirror.
"Yeah?""
"Thanks for staying.""
Marcus looked at the road ahead, blinking back tears.
"Always, buddy.""
And this time, it wasn't a promise that everything would be easy.
It was a promise that when things became difficult, he would still be there.
May you like
Because Toulouse might have been the man who gave Jordan life.
But Marcus was the man who had spent eight years showing him what a father did with it.