Following Michael's unfavorable remarks, a heavy silence descended among them laden with unconscious questions and anxiety. Elizabeth's heart hammered and her thoughts whirled with a rainbow of options, each more terrifying than the next. A small person emerged in the foyer, his cherubic components landing with attention before she could speak for her interests. Mommy? Jeremy meandered, his forehead wrinkled as he absorbed the tense situation in front him. When Elizabeth saw her son, her chest warmed and the weight of the occasion seemed to vanish immediately. She turned to face him and grinned reassuringly despite inner conflict. "It's alright, sweetie," she murmured in a soft and consoling voice. Here Michael is. the man I told you. Jeremy focused on Michael and widened his eyes upon the enormous man staring back at him. For a brief second the three were surrounded in an expectant quiet as the weight of this turning point permeated the air. Then Michael sank to one knee, carrying himself level with the inquisitive child, with an effortlessness that misled his years. His face was one of surprise and respect as he gazed at Jeremy, and he softly smiled. "Hello, young man," he said in a friendly, rich baritone. "To at last meet you is a pleasure." Jeremy respected him inquisitively, his gaze fixed on the outsider with the naked teenage curiosity. "Are you your actual dad?" Though the question seemed rather simple, it had a thousand unsung connotations. Elizabeth stopped breathing, her gaze flitting to Michael, waiting for his response with a mix of caution and deliberate eagerness. Michael seemed to stumble for a bit, his confidence fading under the weight of the situation. His shoulders then leveled and his jaw set in a steely outpouring of intention. Indeed, Jeremy said, his voice steady and assured. "You are your dad." Those four little sentences carried weight, thus there was quiet between them. Then Jeremy's face turned poor into a dazzling smile, his whole face glowing with delight as though a switch had been turned on. " Really?" he yelled, wobbling on the fragments of his feet with hardly controlled force. "That is so cool!" Elizabeth was mesmerized as Jeremy's wild energy melted Michael's subdued manner and softened his face. Perhaps a cloak had been raised, revealing a side of the guy she had never known - a softness, a delicacy that stayed as clear-cut difference from the hard-edged image he had always expected. She realized the truth that had been in front of her all along: Michael was just a man with flaws and shortcomings who had been granted a second opportunity at fatherhood, something he had never known he desired, regardless of his riches and arrogance. Watching the two of them—joy, terror, and a hint of something else she was reluctant to label for fear of giving it too much power—her heart grew swollen with a complex combination of emotions. Negligent of the near-home bustle about him, Jeremy let off a rapid fire barrage of questions, his great interest pouring forward in a tsunami of words. Are you a big house dweller? Cool is your car? Could we perhaps go on a ride at some point? To Michael's credit, he answered every question with kindness and patience that seemed natural. His eyes sparkled with a boyish excitement as he told Jeremy stories of his elegant sports cars and luxurious home, exposing years of careful aloofness. Elizabeth became enthralled with the honest relationship between father and son and found herself sucked into the discussion. Michael slid a little, finely crafted sculpture into Jeremy's palm with a secretive wink, enthralled her, then took it from his pocket. His voice kind, he muttered, "This is for you, my lad." "A memento of our just discovered link." Jeremy's eyes grew delighted as he gently and with respect traced the exquisite contours of the wooden figure. Right then and there, a notable change occurred—a softening of the obstacles separating them simple minutes earlier. Michael delighted Jeremy all afternoon and evening with stories of his work trips and vacations, conjuring clear pictures in the young man's head. Elizabeth said nothing throughout; her heart was a confusion of contradictory emotions. She was powerless, on one hand, to stop the swell from blossoming inside her at witnessing her child's euphoria—that unbridled pleasure radiating from all his pores. It was a reminder of the courage and wonder that had seen her through even the most trying circumstances and a healing for her spirit. But mixed with that pleasure was a string of anxiety, an unpleasant voice murmuring of past hurts and the always present ghost of disaster. She had gone down this road before, had truly hoped for a future full of love and laughter, just to have those expectations run against Michael's cold, unassuming lack of concern. As the evening drew to an end, Jeremy's eyes got sleepy; his infinite vitality finally waned in front of the day's excitement. Michael gently cradled the drowsy kid to his large chest, as if it were second nature to breathing. "Time to turn in, I think," he said, his voice a deep thunder that seemed to reverberate in the very profundities of Elizabeth's being. She nodded silently, her throat constricted from a tangle of feelings she was reluctant to communicate. She hobbled along as Michael brought Jeremy down the pass, her means weighted with the weight of her pounding thoughts. Once Jeremy had been nestled into bed, Elizabeth found herself once again alone with Michael, his sleep broken only by the soft cadence of his breathing. A hopeful silence descended between them, heavy with implicit messages and the echoes of a shared history seeking to overwhelm them both. At last Michael said, staring at his slept kid, "He's a remarkable child." Elizabeth nodded in accord after inhaling deeply. "he is." One more quiet beat passed between them, accused of the weight of one thousand unvoiced reflections and emotions. Michael started, his voice genuine and heavy. " Elizabeth." "I understand I have no way to ask anything from you, not in line with my behavior. I am not a like man who left such a long time ago, nonetheless; I commit to you." He moved in her direction and fixed a close eye glance at her, therefore endangering her well prepared fortifications. "I want to be a part of Jeremy's life," he said, speaking a flood of unvarnished truth. "I have to be the dad he deserves, the dad I should have been all along." Elizabeth felt her aim waver, her heart caught in the crossfire of her competing emotions. She yearned to confide in the candor glittering so brilliantly in his eyes, to trust him. But the ghost of her past treachery loomed big, throwing a shadow that seemed to put out the fire of hope inside her. At last, speaking hardly at all, she whispered, "I want to believe you, Michael." In any case, you must understand; it is really challenging. That treachery left severe scars and you destroyed my heart in a way I never would have dreamed was possible. She inhaled quivering and set her eyes on him, squarely meeting his. "You have to show me that you actually intend what you say if you really need to be a piece of our life at that moment. By your actions and unwavering accountability, you must demonstrate to me that you are a different man—a man worthy of the trust you so carelessly squandered." Michael's jaw ticked with a muscle, but he kept eye contact with her, his manner one of great assurance. "I understand," he murmured, gravelly and in a low whisper. "And I swear to you, Elizabeth, that I will do whatever it takes to show that I am worthy. I will move heaven and earth assuming I should, face down any snag that really thinks about holding me up." Mine is yours. Elizabeth felt a trembling of something vaguely like trust waver in her breast, merely to be drowned by an unexpected, obstinate hum from Michael's pocket. He wrinkled his brow and fixed closely on the screen as he pulled out his phone. Grasping his free hand into a white-knuckled fist, he hissed, "We may have to put that promise to the test sooner than expected.'" "It seems to be our problems are just starting..."