Page 82 of Witch's Promise

His father nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are. But after everything that's happened... well, let's just say my perspective has shifted somewhat."

A sparkof hope flared in Sean's chest, fragile but undeniable. "That's... that's good, Dad. Really good. It's a big step towards rebuilding... well, everything."

"I hope so," his father said softly, reaching out to tentatively pat Sean's hand. The gesture was awkward, unpracticed, but it spoke volumes about his father's desire to reconnect. "I know I've got a lot to make up for, son. But I want to try, if you'll let me."

Sean swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he managed, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They sat in silence for a moment, both men grappling with the weight of years of misunderstanding and hurt. But there was one question that had been burning in Sean's mind for years, one he'd never dared to ask until now.

"Dad," Sean began hesitantly, "what really happened to Mom? I know you said it was a heart attack, but with everything that's happened, I can't help but wonder..."

His father’s face crumpled, a look of raw grief overtaking his features. For a moment, Sean regretted asking, fearing he'd pushed too far too soon. But then his father took a deep, shuddering breath and began to speak.

"The doctors weren't lying, Sean," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your mother... she had a heart condition. Had it since she was born. We knew, of course, but she never let it slow her down. Said life was too short to live in fear."

Sean listened, transfixed, as his father spoke about his mother with a tenderness he'd never heard before. It was like a veil had been lifted, allowing him to see the love that had existed between his parents – a love that had been overshadowed by grief and bitterness for so long.

"The night she died," his father continued, his voice breaking, "we'd been arguing. About you, actually. She wanted to tell you the truth about our family, about the organization. I was against it, thought it would put you in danger. We went to bed angry, and then..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. But Sean understood. The guilt his father must have carried all these years, thinking his last words to his wife had been in anger, it was a weight Sean knew all too well.

"Dad," Sean said softly, reaching out to grasp his father's hand. "It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

His father looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Logically, yes. But the heart isn't always logical, is it?"

Sean shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "No, it's really not."

They sat there for a long moment, hands clasped, sharing in a grief that had gone unacknowledged for far too long. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet. There was still too much hurt, too many years of misunderstanding between them. But it was a start.

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment of shared vulnerability between Sean and his father. Gabe's head poked in, his expression a mixture of apology and urgency.

"Hey," Gabe said softly, his eyes flickering between Sean and his father. "Sorry to interrupt, but the Wisterias are here. Sean, do you think you're up for a little meeting? Can you stand?"

Sean's immediate instinct was to say yes, to push through whatever discomfort or weakness he might be feeling. Old habits died hard, after all. But as he shifted, preparing to swing his legs off the bed, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

"I, uh, might need a hand," Sean admitted, hating the weakness in his voice. "Legs feel like jelly after a week of being a vegetable."

Gabe was at his side in an instant, one arm wrapping around Sean's waist to support him as he stood. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Sean's body, a reminder of everything that had changed between them.

"I've got you," Gabe murmured, his breath warm against Sean's ear. "Just take it slow, okay?"

Together, they made their way to the living room, Sean's father following close behind. The short journey left Sean embarrassingly winded, but he pushed down the frustration. He was alive, after all. A little weakness was a small price to pay for that.

The living room was crowded with familiar faces. Emily and Damian Reed sat on the couch, their expressions a mixture of concern and relief as they watched Sean's slow progress. Giana and Gino hovered nearby, clearly itching to help but unsure if their assistance would be welcome.

"Where's your team?" Sean asked Gabe as they settled into an armchair, his voice low enough that only Gabe could hear. "Thought they'd want to be here for this little pow-wow."

Gabe's expression tightened slightly. "Had to head back to New York last night. Duty calls, you know how it is."

Before Sean could respond, a blur of movement caught his attention. Jessy Wisteria rushed forward, throwing her armsaround him in a hug that was equal parts grateful and guilt-ridden.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For not giving me to Riley. For risking everything to protect me."

Sean awkwardly patted her back, unsure how to respond. The guilt that had been his constant companion for so long reared its ugly head. He didn't deserve her gratitude. If he'd been smarter, faster, stronger, none of this would have happened in the first place.

As Jessy pulled away, Sean's eyes landed on her parents. Caroline and Dexter Wisteria sat rigidly in their chairs, their faces drawn with exhaustion and lingering fear. But there was something else there too – a determination that spoke of hard decisions made and difficult conversations had.

Caroline cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention. "First," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion shining in her eyes, "I want to thank you, Gabe. For saving us. And you, Damian, for not turning us in to the council. We... we know we don't deserve such kindness."

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