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Chapter 46 – Making It Right
Damon's POV
Liam's birthday was in a week.
His fifth.
I stared at the calendar in my office, the date circled in bold red ink — July 3rd. It stared back at me like a challenge, a reminder of time lost, of years I could never get back. My jaw clenched as guilt slowly crept into my chest, heavy and cold.
Five years.
I had missed the first four of them. The first steps, the first words, the first drawings. Even his first fall. I wasn't there for any of it. I was too busy being blind, too caught up in my own cold world to see the life Arya had been nurturing quietly on her own.
It ate at me sometimes — the thought that someone else could have taken my place. That he might have called another man "Dad."
But he didn't.
He called me Daddy now. And every time he did, it shattered me and healed me all at once.
I had to make this birthday special. Not just big, not just perfect. Meaningful. He deserved that — a memory that said: Daddy is here now. And he's not leaving again.
I pulled out my phone and opened my notes — the list I'd been building for weeks now.
Dinosaur-themed decorations (he was obsessed with them lately)
Custom cake shaped like a T-Rex
Mini bouncy castle
Invite all the kids from his class
Face painting
A surprise gift he'd never forget
But even all that didn't feel like enough.
I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. No party could make up for four lost birthdays. No gift could erase the guilt. I had to show him — not just on one day, but every day — that I was here. That he mattered more than any business deal or corporate meeting.
My phone buzzed. A message from Arya.
> Arya: Hey love. Liam just asked if you'll be home early tonight. He wants you to help him color his new book 😊
I swallowed hard.
> Me: I'll be there. No meetings. I promise.
I stood immediately and grabbed my jacket. Work could wait. My son couldn't.
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When I got home, Liam was in the living room, crayons scattered everywhere, coloring furiously.
"Daddy!" he shouted, his eyes lighting up the second he saw me. "Come see the blue dinosaur I made!"
I dropped everything and knelt beside him, ruffling his hair. "Wow! That's one scary dinosaur. You made this?"
He nodded proudly. "It's a T-Rex. Like the one I want for my birthday!"
I glanced at Arya who was watching from the kitchen with a warm smile. She gave me a small nod. We were both thinking the same thing — we couldn't let this birthday be ordinary.
I sat with Liam for the next hour, coloring beside him, laughing at his silly jokes and letting him smear green crayon all over my shirt. And as he leaned against me, babbling about party hats and "giant balloons bigger than Mommy," I realized something:
All he wanted… was me.
Not perfection. Not a flashy event. Just time. Attention. Presence.
"I'll be at your party," I said softly, kissing his head. "And I'll be at all your birthdays after this too. I promise."
He looked up at me with those big curious eyes. "You pinky swear?"
I smiled and held out my pinky. "Pinky swear."
He locked his little finger with mine, giggling. "That means you can never break it."
"I never will."
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Later that night, when Liam had fallen asleep, Arya and I sat on the balcony, a blanket wrapped around our shoulders and mugs of warm tea in our hands.
"He's really excited," she said, her eyes on the stars.
"He should be. He deserves the world."
She turned to me, her gaze soft. "You're doing everything you can now, Damon. He knows you love him."
"I just wish I had started sooner," I murmured, guilt lacing my voice.
Arya rested her head on my shoulder. "You're here now. That's what matters to him. And to me."
I looked down at her. "Do you think he'll forgive me when he's older? For not being there?"
"He already has," she whispered. "He loves you completely. You're his hero."
That word nearly broke me. Hero.
If only she knew how far from that I used to be.
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her temple. "I want this birthday to be the first of many good memories. I want him to feel nothing but joy. No missing pieces. No emptiness."
She nodded. "Then just keep doing what you're doing. You're already his favorite person."
I chuckled. "I thought that was you."
"It was," she smirked. "Until you showed up with chocolate pancakes and bedtime stories."
We laughed quietly, our hearts full, our son safe in his room, and for the first time, I didn't feel like I was chasing redemption.
I felt like I was living it.
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