Chapter 9 - Unmasking the TruthTheo looked at his father, his expression holding no anger—only a quiet, profound disappointment that hit harder than any blow.
“You’re my dad,” Theo whispered. “But Coach Caleb is the man who showed up.”
Brendan looked at his son, then at Sloane, whose hand was resting proudly on Theo’s shoulder. Finally, he looked at me. For the first time since I’d met him, the arrogance in Brendan’s eyes vanished, replaced by a deep, hollow shame.
“Theo...” Brendan stammered, his voice losing all its polish. “I... I thought you wanted nice things.”
“I wanted you to watch my games,” Theo said simply. “I wanted you to know my friends' names. I wanted you to be there.”
Brendan stood in the driveway for a long, agonizing minute. The illusion of his control, his wealth, and his superiority had completely crumbled before the truth of an eleven-year-old boy.
Without another word, Brendan slowly turned around. He walked back to his black Escalade, his posture slumped, the tailored coat suddenly looking heavy on his shoulders. He got into the car and drove away into the dark night, his headlights fading down the road.
Sloane let out a shaky breath, pulling Theo into a tight, emotional hug. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
Theo buried his face in her shoulder for a second before turning to look at me.
“Did I do okay, Coach?” he asked quietly.
I knelt down in front of him, resting my hands on his shoulders. “You were incredible, Theo. You stood up for the truth.”
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He offered a small, brave smile, tossing his worn glove into the air and catching it cleanly in his palm. “Practice on Thursday?”
“Practice on Thursday,” I promised. “And I’m driving.”
