Chapter 10 - Confrontation by the Lake
The knock on my front door was hesitant, soft.
When I opened it, standing on the threshold was my son. He looked ten years older. His dark hair was threaded with grey at the temples, his eyes were ringed with deep, exhausted shadows, and his shoulders were bowed under the heavy weight of regret.
"Hello, Mom," Jason whispered, his voice cracking.
I didn't invite him in immediately. I stood in the doorway, my arms crossed over my wool sweater, looking at the man who had ordered me out of his house on Thanksgiving.
"Jason," I said evenly. "What are you doing here?"
"Can I... can I please come in?" he pleaded, tears welling in his eyes. "Just for a few minutes. Please, Mom."
Step by reluctant step, I opened the door wider and stepped aside. He walked into the warm, sunlit living room, stopping by Robert’s cherrywood desk. He looked around the cozy cottage, taking in the framed photographs of our past life and the peaceful view of the lake.
"It's... it's beautiful here," Jason choked out, sinking slowly onto the edge of the sofa. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as silent, heavy sobs wracked his body. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I am so, so sorry."
I stood watching him for a long moment. The anger I had carried for weeks slowly dissolved into a quiet, sorrowful pity.
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"You made your choice on Thanksgiving, Jason," I said softly, walking over to stand by the window. "You told me to find somewhere else to go. I did. Why are you here now? Did Natalie send you because the bank is foreclosing on the house?"
Jason looked up, his face stained with tears. "The house is in default, yes. The contractor sued us. Natalie and I... we're falling apart. But I didn't come here for your money, Mom. God help me, I came here because I realized I traded my own mother for marble countertops, and I lost everything that actually mattered."
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