Parents.. with different treatment

Comtinued

As Colby and Xander walked down the street, a soft, quiet connection began to grow between them. Each step they took seemed to bridge the gap that had long felt like a canyon. It was unfamiliar territory for both father and son, but in that small, shared silence, they began to feel just a bit closer.

Colby continued asking Xander gentle questions, things he had never thought to ask before — what Xander liked to do at home, what his favorite books were, or even what he thought about school. And, to his surprise, Xander answered. His voice was still shy, his responses short, but there was a hint of relief in his words, as though he'd been waiting for this moment.

They reached a small, quiet park at the end of the street. Xander's face lit up as he saw the swings in the distance. Colby smiled, feeling a little warmth as he watched his son's excitement. For the first time in a long time, he felt something other than frustration and impatience. It was as if seeing Xander happy allowed him to feel a glimmer of happiness himself.

"Want me to push you?" Colby asked softly.

Xander nodded, a tiny smile crossing his lips as he ran to the swing and climbed on, gripping the chains tightly. Colby approached, gently giving him a push, and with each swing, Xander let out a small, contented laugh, his body relaxing as he soared higher and higher. The sight of his son so carefree and joyful stirred something deep within Colby. For the first time, he realized what he'd been missing out on — the simple happiness of being a dad and sharing in his child's joy.

"Higher, Dad!" Xander called, his laughter echoing through the empty park.

Colby chuckled, pushing him a bit harder, his own laughter joining Xander's. "Alright, buddy. Just hold on tight!"

They spent a while like that, laughing and playing. Colby showed Xander how to pump his legs to keep swinging on his own, and Xander watched with wide-eyed wonder as he tried, determined to do it himself. And though his ADHD and autism sometimes made it hard to focus on instructions, Colby was patient, encouraging him gently. Little by little, Xander began to understand, and soon he was swinging on his own, grinning with pride.

When they finally headed home, Xander was exhausted but happy. He reached for Colby's hand as they walked, a small gesture that caught Colby off guard. But he took his son's hand, holding it gently as they made their way back.

That night, as they returned home, Sam and Valerie noticed the change. Colby wasn't his usual tense, brooding self. He looked relaxed, his expression softened, and Xander's face glowed with a new sense of contentment.

Later, while Xander was getting ready for bed, Colby lingered by his door. He watched as Xander climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Just before turning out the light, Colby walked in and knelt by his son's bed.

"Goodnight, Xander," he said quietly, his voice warm. "I'm proud of you, you know that?"

Xander looked up, his small face lighting up with surprise. He gave his dad a shy nod, and for a moment, Colby saw a spark of something new in his son's eyes — trust, maybe even hope. "Goodnight, Dad," he whispered back.

As Colby left the room, closing the door softly behind him, he realized that Sam had been right. Xander didn't need him to be perfect. He just needed him to be there. And for the first time, Colby felt like he could be that father — maybe even a better one than he had ever imagined.

From that night on, things didn't change overnight. There were days when Colby still struggled, when he felt the weight of his own impatience. But each time, he remembered that evening at the park, Xander's laughter, and the feeling of his son's small hand in his. He took each day one step at a time, just as Sam had advised. And slowly, steadily, he found his way back to the relationship he had nearly lost, rebuilding it with patience, love, and a newfound understanding of what it meant to truly be a dad.