The true weight of my foolish pride crashed over me as I sat at the kitchen table. I acknowledged that my mother had intercepted the mail, but I was the one who created the situation by cutting off all communication and refusing to listen to the explanations of Lauren about Patrick helping plan a retirement dinner for my father. Lauren gently explained that she had never told Mason the truth about my assumed rejection to protect his innocent heart, leaving him knowing only that his father was in the military. Looking into the living room, I watched my son proudly building a city from plastic blocks. I decided to join him on the soft carpet, telling him I was good at building bridges. We spent the next twenty minutes constructing a sturdy bridge together, sharing our first true moments as father and son. Lauren kindly offered me the guest room because the winter roads were dangerous, and the next morning Mason invited me to sit with him at the kitchen table. We talked casually about rockets, school, and baseball before he bravely asked how I knew his mother.
