Chapter 12 - Devin's Choice
The afternoon sun was dipping below the tree line when Devin knocked softly on the frame of Andre’s study door.
Andre looked up from his desk, where he was sorting through the few salvaged personal items from his safe. "Hey, son. Come on in."
Devin stepped into the room, his hands in his pockets, his gaze drifting to the empty spaces on the walls where Tanya’s corporate awards and framed degrees used to hang.
"My grandma called," Devin said quietly. "My mom’s mom. From Chicago."
Andre set his pen down. "What did she say?"
"She offered to buy me a plane ticket to come live with her," Devin said, his voice tight. "She said you’re going to be too busy dealing with the legal mess, and that I don't belong here anymore since my mom isn't here."
Andre stood up slowly and walked around the desk. He stopped two feet in front of the boy who had grown four inches since they’d first moved into this house together.
"Do you want to go to Chicago, Devin?" Andre asked gently.
Devin looked up, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I don't know my grandma, Dad. I’ve seen her three times in my whole life. My mom only called her when she needed money."
"Then you don't have to go anywhere," Andre said firmly. "I told you yesterday, Devin: family isn't about blood or legal paperwork. It’s about who stands by you when the house is on fire. You didn't light the match. You tried to warn me."
"I should’ve told you sooner," Devin choked out. "If I had just spoken up about Maya's ticket two weeks ago—"
"Devin, stop," Andre commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You are not responsible for your mother's choices. She made her bed, and she’s going to lie in it. But you? You have a track meet next month, you have finals coming up, and you have a sister who needs her big brother right now."
Devin swallowed hard, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. "Can I really stay? Even after everything she did to you and Maya?"
Andre reached out, pulled Devin into a tight, crushing hug, and patted him hard on the back. "You’re my son, Devin. That doesn't change just because your mother forgot how to be a decent human being. We’re in this together."
Behind them in the doorway, Maya stood holding three cans of soda. She offered a small, hesitant smile. "Hey. Are you guys gonna keep crying, or are we gonna pack up this living room so we can get out of this place?"
Devin pulled back from the hug, letting out a wet, genuine laugh. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."
May you like
Andre looked at the two of them—battered by the storm, but standing side by side, stronger than ever.
"Alright," Andre said, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's load the truck."
