Alex, he said after a pause, we need to talk.
His voice sounded different. Not angry, not commanding, just tired.
What about?
I just I didn’t realize how much you were doing for this family, he said slowly. I guess I let some things slide I shouldn’t have.
I didn’t say anything. Let the silence stretch.
I was wondering, he continued, “If you could at least send a new Wi-Fi password.” Ryan’s been having issues with his remote work setup.
I laughed, a quiet, single laugh. It wasn’t bitter. It was almost amused.
“I’m not your IT guy, Dad,” I said. “I was your son once. That didn’t seem to count for much.”
He didn’t know how to respond. I could hear it in the way his breathing hitched.
Is this really how you want to handle things?
No, I said, but it’s how you handled things for years.
Then I hung up.
That night, I started going through my accounts, utilities, insurance, subscriptions. One by one, I removed my card information from everything connected to their address.
The water bill gone. The electricity autopay cancelled. I left them with the standard service plans, no discounts, no perks.
Let them call and sit on hold for 3 hours like everyone else.
I thought that would be the end of it. But 2 days later, I received a letter in the mail.
Not an email, a letter, thick envelope, my name written in cursive. Inside was a folded piece of paper with my dad’s handwriting.
It started with, “Alex, I know I haven’t been the father you needed me to be.”
I didn’t read the rest. Not right away.