Page 50 of Doyle

The relief on Michael's face was palpable, but there was also a hint of sadness.

"Dad, I'm not leaving you behind. I just... I need to be somewhere I can be safe,” he said. “I don’t want to be a burden to you either.”

"I understand, son," his dad said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just want what's best for you."

Michael reached across the table and squeezed his dad's hand.

"We'll visit often, and I'll call every day,” Michael said.

His dad nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "Just promise me you'll stay safe,” he said.

"I promise," Michael said, his voice breaking. He turned to me, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Doyle. For everything."

I pulled Michael into a tight embrace. “I got you, love,” I told him.

As we pulled away, Michael's dad stood up and walked over to me. He held out his hand, and I shook it firmly.

"Take care of my son," he said, his voice wavering.

"I will," I promised. “I’d give my life for him if necessary.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Michael told me with a small smile.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MICHAEL

Packing was harderthan I thought it would be.

As I stood in my room, trying to figure out what clothes to bring over to Doyle's, I felt an overwhelming sense of uncertainty.

How long would I be staying with him?

I had no idea, so I threw random clothes into my luggage, along with some essentials—though I wasn’t even sure what counted as essentials anymore.

Will my dad be alright on his own? I mean, he should be.

He managed fine without me all these years, but I still couldn’t help but worry.

The conversation with my dad during breakfast kept replaying in my mind.

His defeated expression haunted me, filling me with guilt.

Teaming up with Doyle initially to convince my dad to let me go felt like a betrayal.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was the worst son in the world.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Doyle asked, noticing my distress.

"I feel bad, for my dad," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

Doyle walked over and pulled me into an embrace. His arms around me felt like a protective barrier against my fears and doubts.

His touch was warm, and I felt a flicker of peace.

"Don't be," Doyle murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "He and I just want what's best for you. Right now, your safety is our priority. And besides, you're not leaving him forever. You'll be keeping in touch."

His words reassured me a little, but the guilt still gnawed at me.

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