Parents.. with different treatment

Hope?

The days passed slowly after that conversation. Colby poured himself into therapy, facing pieces of himself
he'd long buried. He'd known he had anger and frustration, but unpacking it felt like peeling away layers he'd worn for years. His therapist had him confront his own fears and insecurities, the relentless pressure to be someone he thought he needed to be. He saw now how much of that pressure he had projected onto his family, onto Xander especially. It was painful work, and each session left him feeling raw, but he kept going — for Xander's sake, and for himself.

But rebuilding Xander's trust was proving far more difficult than Colby had anticipated. His son's disappointment had left deep scars, and he'd grown wary, more reserved around Colby. Gone was the wide-eyed hope that had once shone in his son's eyes; instead, there was a guarded, cautious gaze that broke Colby's heart each time he looked at it. And each time Xander pulled away, Colby felt the weight of his past mistakes pressing down harder.

One evening, Colby decided to try something new. He'd been brainstorming ways to reach Xander, and he thought of building something together, a way to bond without forcing conversation. He picked up a model airplane kit, something he knew would catch Xander's interest, and waited for the right moment to bring it up.

After dinner, he sat down beside Xander, who was quietly drawing at the table. "Hey, bud," he began softly, trying not to sound too eager. "I got this model airplane kit. Thought it might be fun to build it together."

Xander looked at the box, his eyes flickering with interest, but then his face fell, and he turned back to his drawing. "I don't know," he murmured. "You probably won't finish it."

Colby felt a pang at those words, but he didn't push. "That's fair," he said gently. "But... if you ever want to give it a try, just let me know. I'll be here."

Xander didn't answer, and Colby left the box on the table, hoping that maybe one day, his son would pick it up.

Weeks passed, and Colby's resolve was tested repeatedly. He'd try to make small connections with Xander, little gestures to show he was there. Some days, Xander would respond with a hesitant nod or a small smile, but more often, he kept his distance. Colby tried not to take it personally, reminding himself that trust takes time, but it was hard. He could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the weight of his efforts sometimes feeling heavier than he could bear.

One Saturday morning, Colby decided to take Xander to the park, hoping the fresh air and a change of scenery might help them reconnect. Xander agreed, though his response was barely above a murmur.

At the park, Colby tried to keep things light, following Xander to the swings and pushing him gently. For a moment, as Xander began to laugh softly, Colby thought things might be turning around. But then, without warning, Xander's laughter faded, and he jumped off the swing, his face tightening.

"Let's just go home," he muttered, brushing past Colby and walking toward the car.

Colby's heart sank, but he didn't argue. He could see the frustration bubbling up in his son, the remnants of so many broken promises that he couldn't simply brush away.

The drive home was quiet. Xander sat in the back seat, staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts. When they arrived, he went straight to his room, closing the door without a word. Colby stood in the hallway, feeling the silence press in on him.

Valerie came up beside him, a look of sympathy on her face. "How did it go?" she asked gently.

Colby shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Not great. I thought... I thought maybe we were making progress. But he's still so distant. I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle."

Valerie placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "He's just scared, Colby. Scared to trust, scared to hope again. You broke his heart, and now he's protecting himself."

Colby nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. But how long do I have to keep fighting? How many times can I try before he'll believe I've changed?"

"However long it takes," Valerie replied softly. "If you want to fix this, you don't give up. He's worth every effort, Colby. You just have to keep showing up."

One afternoon, Colby was working in his office when he heard a faint knock on his door. He looked up, surprised to see Xander standing there, clutching the model airplane box he'd left on the table weeks ago.

"Dad?" Xander's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes downcast. "Can... can we build this now?"

Colby's heart lifted, a surge of hope flooding through him. He set his work aside immediately, walking over to his son. "Of course, buddy," he said warmly, gesturing to the living room where they could spread out. "Let's get started."

They spent the afternoon piecing together the model, Xander taking the lead as Colby followed his instructions, careful not to intrude too much. For the first time, he felt like they were truly working together, like there was a fragile connection forming again. Xander's face lit up each time they made progress, and Colby matched his excitement, encouraging him every step of the way.

But just as they were adding the finishing touches, Colby's phone buzzed. It was a work email, one he'd been waiting on for days. He glanced at it, feeling the familiar pull of responsibility. I'll just be a minute, he thought, standing up.

"Hey, Xander," he said, trying to keep his tone casual, "I need to check something really quick. I'll be right back, okay?"

Xander's face fell, his eyes widening with a mix of panic and disappointment. "But... we're almost done. Can't you wait?"

Colby hesitated, glancing between his son and his phone. "I promise, buddy, it'll just be a minute."

He walked to his office, telling himself he'd only be gone for a moment. But as he read through the email, one message turned into two, then three, as he got pulled deeper into his work. Minutes ticked by, and before he knew it, half an hour had passed.

When he finally returned to the living room, he found Xander sitting on the floor, staring at the half-finished model airplane. His shoulders were slumped, his face blank, but Colby could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Xander..." Colby began, his heart sinking as he realized what he'd done. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be gone that long."

Xander didn't look up. He simply picked up the airplane, his small hands trembling as he turned it over, examining the pieces that were left. "You always say that," he whispered, his voice laced with pain. "You always say it won't take long. But it always does."

Colby felt his chest tighten, guilt washing over him in waves. "I know, and I messed up. I should have stayed. I just... I thought—"

"You promised," Xander interrupted, his voice choked. "You promised you'd stay."

Colby knelt beside him, reaching out, but Xander pulled away, his face hardening. "I can't trust you, Dad. You keep breaking your promises. And I keep hoping, but... it just hurts more every time."

The words hit Colby like a punch to the gut. He had hoped that time and effort would mend things, that he could make up for the past, but he realized now that each broken promise left a scar too deep to heal. He opened his mouth to speak, but he had no words, nothing he could say to undo the damage he'd done.

Xander stood up, clutching the model airplane to his chest. Without looking back, he walked to his room, closing the door softly behind him, leaving Colby alone in the silence of his broken promises.