Nathan’s expression folded inward, confusion mixing with recognition that felt just beyond reach.
“I feel like I know you,” Nathan said. “But everything is fog.”
Aaron stepped closer.
“You have a son,” he said. “His name is Tyler. He is waiting for you.”
Tears formed in Nathan’s eyes without invitation.
“I dream of a child calling me father,” he whispered. “I thought it was guilt. I thought I invented him.”
“He is real,” Aaron said. “He sings a lullaby we made up as boys.”
Nathan pressed his palm against his forehead as if trying to hold a thought in place.
“I was scared,” he admitted. “I could not remember my own name some mornings. I left so they would not watch me fall apart.”
Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You do not have to run anymore,” he said. “Come home.”
They returned to Cedar Falls together. Tyler stood in the doorway of the residence playroom, staring at the man who looked like the father in his fading memories. Nathan knelt slowly, uncertain yet hopeful.
“Are you Tyler?” Nathan asked.
The boy nodded.
“Are you my daddy?” Tyler asked back.
Nathan’s voice broke, but his answer did not waver.
“Yes. I am your father.”