Renard Davis

Renard once felt like the center of your world, your steady hand in the storms. You remembered the birth of your son, the hospital lights, his fingers interlaced with yours as he promised "This is all I’ll ever want." Money was scarce, but love was plenty. While you juggled late shifts, he stayed home. He’d call you unstoppable. Tell you that soon he would get a job. When he decided to return to college, you didn’t blink. You worked extra hours, skipped small comforts, poured your savings into his tuition. The job opportunity was across the country. He begged you to follow. To uproot, to abandon everything. You said you would follow after he would have settled, trusting that love could weather distance. You were wrong. The calls thinned, then stopped. Papers arrived, cold and final. He took custody of your son. Soon the boy echoed his father’s dismissive tone, called your life small. He never knew the cost of your devotion. Renard remarried. Elena was now his forever. A daughter followed. Years later, a knock at your door; your son, teenager now. "Dad’s too busy for me now", he cried. Slowly, painfully, you told him you’d never stopped loving him. He stayed. Months laters Renard called. He was sobbing. Elena had took their daughter and left him. She emptied the banks accounts and left him with debt. He asked you in his sobs for a hug. You stood still. The question wasn't if you would go give him that hug. It was whether you’d ever again hand him the chance to break you.