Family Ties - Robby's Story - 5. Chapter 5

Manny came home later that evening, the sound of the door opening breaking the heavy silence in the apartment.

“Robby? Are you home?” he called out, noticing the lights were off. The living room was still, my books sitting open on the table, untouched.

“I’m in the bedroom,” I called back, my voice barely above a whisper.

Manny walked into the room and flipped on the light. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the door as he entered. My face must have said it all because he immediately came over and sat beside me.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

“He came here, Manny. Tanner came and told me everything,” I said, my voice cracking as the weight of the day pressed down on me.

Manny wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his warmth grounding me. Slowly, I began to tell him everything Tanner had revealed. I didn’t hold back—not a single detail. As I spoke, the tears I’d been holding back all day spilled over, streaming down my face.

By the time I finished, I was drained, my chest aching from the weight of it all. “I really have lost them,” I said, my voice breaking. “I knew my dad was manipulative, but I never dreamed he’d go to such lengths. To control all of them, to erase what happened… I feel sorry for Tanner. For my mom. Even for Sarah and Sophia. They’re all pawns in his game, Manny. He doesn’t care about any of us. All he’s ever cared about is himself.”

Manny didn’t interrupt. He just listened, letting me pour out everything I’d been holding in.

“It all makes sense now,” I continued, my voice quieter. “Why the pool was suddenly shut down. Why all the furniture in the house was replaced. He was disgusted by what happened that day—by what Tanner did—and he tried to erase it. Erase Tanner. Like none of it ever happened. But Tanner relented. The pull of money, power and prestige was too strong for him”

The years went by quickly, blurring into a series of milestones and memories. Manny and I graduated and started building the life we had dreamed of. As I stood at commencement delivering my valedictorian speech, I couldn’t help but scan the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of my mom, Tanner, or even Sarah and Sophia. But there was nothing. If they were there, they didn’t want to be seen.

From time to time, we’d get cards. I got one at graduation, with a few hundred dollars inside. It was signed by Tanner. I donated the money. How could I be sure it was really from him and not another trick? I had let a credit card come between Manny and me once—I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

Life moves forward, as it does. Manny and I achieved many of our goals, both personal and professional. We built a home, started our careers, and eventually had children. We got married. Brandon, Kyle, and Ally brought so much joy into our lives, and before we knew it, we were grandparents. Watching our grandchildren run through the house filled a part of me I hadn’t realized was empty. Yet, even as the years brought love and happiness, the wounds my father left behind never fully healed.

When the children were born, I received another card from Tanner. I don’t know how he knew, but somehow, he always knew. That’s what frustrated me the most—rather than come and talk to me, he just sent cards.

Every year, on Brandon, Kyle, and Ally’s birthdays, there was a card in the mail. Always with money tucked inside as a gift. Manny said I should keep it, said it was Tanner’s way of staying connected. But after everything that had happened all those years ago, I didn’t want that kind of connection. It felt hollow, like a thread too thin to hold the weight of what had been broken.

When Manny and I got married, we received a card. When the grandchildren were born, there were more cards.

That’s all it ever was—cards. Words on paper, tokens of a relationship that Tanner couldn’t bring himself to truly repair.

Sarah and Sophia never sent anything. I never heard from them again.

They lost so much, an entire generation that they would never know.

The pain wasn’t just mine—it lingered in the shadows of my family’s story. Tanner’s words from that day stayed with me, haunting me in quiet moments. I often wondered about him, about the choices he made after we last spoke. Through the years, I found snippets of his life in articles and updates. He married a wealthy socialite named Cindy, and they had four children together. I couldn’t help but wonder—was it what he wanted? Or what he was forced to do? I thought about reaching out, but every time I picked up the phone, I hesitated. What could I even say after all these years?

Sarah and Sophia thrived in their own ways. Sarah made headlines as a high-profile lawyer, her name often attached to major cases. Sophia built a successful career in business, her achievements gracing the society pages now and then. They had made their mark, but I still couldn’t tell if they were happy—or if they had simply learned to live with the choices they made.

And my mom… I thought about her often. I wondered how she had survived living with my father all those years. Did she find moments of peace, or did she live in quiet despair? I would never know. It was as if she’d disappeared, erased from the world like so many of my father’s mistakes. He was resourceful, with money and power that could make people vanish—physically or emotionally. Wherever she was, I hoped she had found some measure of peace.

Time softened the edges of those thoughts, but they never disappeared entirely. Even as Manny and I built a life filled with love and laughter, there were quiet moments when I would sit and wonder. Wonder about Tanner and the path he’d taken. Wonder about my mom’s fate. Wonder if my dad ever looked back on the family he destroyed—or if he simply moved on, unbothered.

But what’s the use of wondering? Manny and I created a life we were proud of. Brandon, Kyle, and Ally grew into remarkable people. They never knew their other grandparents, and maybe that was a blessing. The love Manny and I built was enough to carry us through, even when the shadows of the past tried to linger.

Still, late at night, when the house was quiet and Manny was asleep beside me, I sometimes caught myself thinking of that day Tanner came to see me. I would close my eyes and imagine a different life—one where Tanner and I grew up without the weight of my father’s manipulation, where my mom wasn’t a prisoner in her own home, and where family meant something more than control.

But that wasn’t my life, and I had made peace with it. Almost.

The Road Home

Vivian heard the knock on the door and frowned. Who could be here this late in the afternoon? Manny and Robby wouldn’t be back for months—she knew their schedules well. Setting down her tea, she got up and made her way to the door, curiosity piqued.

“Hello? Can I help you?” Vivian asked as she opened the door to two strangers standing on her porch.

“I hope so,” the young man said nervously. “Are you Vivian? Is your son Mason… er, Manny?”

“Yes, that’s me. But who are you? Is everything OK? Is Manny hurt? How are the grandkids?” Vivian asked, her concern evident. She had a habit of speaking a little too openly, her thoughts spilling out unfiltered.

At the mention of “grandkids,” the woman standing beside the young man froze, her eyes lighting up.

The young man quickly interjected. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Tanner, and this is my mom, Amanda. We’re Robby’s family—his older brother and mother.”

Vivian blinked, stunned for a moment. Robby’s family? She hadn’t expected this. After all these years…

“Oh! Of course, please come in,” Vivian said, stepping aside to let them into the house. She led them into the cozy family room, its walls adorned with pictures chronicling Manny and Robby’s life together. There were snapshots of their wedding, family vacations, the birth of their children, and milestones like first steps and birthdays. It was their history, displayed for all to see.

As Amanda’s eyes scanned the pictures, a smile flickered across her face. There was a mix of happiness and sorrow in her expression, as if each photo brought her joy but also reminded her of all she’d missed. Tanner stood beside her, his gaze lingering on a photo of Robby and Manny, arms around each other and smiling brightly.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Vivian said, disappearing briefly into the kitchen. She returned with a tray of coffee and snacks, setting it down on the table. “I hope you don’t mind some coffee and biscuits.”

“Oh, Mrs… you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,” Amanda said, catching herself before finishing her formal address.

“Please, call me Vivian,” she replied warmly.

“Of course, Vivian,” Amanda said, settling into a chair. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I think this is long overdue.”

It was long overdue. Vivian had never expected to meet Robby’s parents, and truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to. She could remember, as clearly as if it were yesterday, the holidays when Robby had broken down in her arms. He had trembled and cried, his pain raw and overwhelming. It had shattered her to see him like that, to know that someone—his own parents, no less—could wound him so deeply.

The image she had built of them in her mind was anything but flattering: cold, unyielding, and harsh. But now, sitting across from Amanda, Vivian found herself startled. This woman didn’t fit the picture she had carried for so long. Amanda was soft-spoken, her voice tentative and careful. There was an air of sadness around her, something heavy and unspoken, that seemed to weigh on her like an invisible chain.

Vivian’s heart warred with her judgment. She had braced herself for hostility, for defensiveness, even denial—but not this quiet sorrow. And as much as she wanted to cling to her anger, to hold onto the memory of Robby’s pain, she couldn’t ignore the humanity in the woman sitting before her.

Vivian nodded. “So, what brings you here, Amanda?”

Amanda hesitated, glancing at Tanner before speaking. “Vivian, I don’t know how much you know about our history. But I felt it was time to speak with you—not to explain ourselves, but to meet you and understand more about Robby and Manny.”

Vivian tilted her head, curious. “You could just meet with them. I have their phone number—”

“It’s very complicated, Vivian,” Tanner cut in, speaking for the first time. His voice was quiet but firm. “The last time I spoke with Robby, he didn’t want anything to do with me. Or with us. A lot has happened… none of it good. My mom isn’t well, and she wanted to speak with you.”

Vivian’s curiosity deepened, and she leaned forward. “I see. Please, go on.”

Amanda sighed, her hands clasped tightly around her coffee cup. “A lot has happened, Vivian, but seeing these pictures… it’s clear that Robby and Manny have built a beautiful life. I’m happy to see that. Truly. Can you tell me more about them? Please?”

Vivian smiled and began to share stories, her words painting vivid pictures of Robby and Manny’s life together. She spoke of holidays, internships, their wedding, and their journey to becoming parents. She showed them photo albums filled with cherished memories, and Amanda and Tanner looked at every picture, hanging on her every word. They listened intently as she described their three children: Brandon, the eldest; Kyle, with his mischievous grin; and Ally, their youngest, always trying to look perfect for family pictures.

“They come back every holiday,” Vivian said proudly. “And they’ve never missed Christmas. Not once in all these years.”

Amanda’s face softened as she listened, her eyes glistening. She looked at the wall of photos, her gaze settling on one in particular. It was of Robby and Manny with their three children, all smiling brightly.

Vivian noticed Amanda’s expression and stood, walking over to the wall. She took down the photo and handed it to her. “This is an older one, but it’s one of my favorites. Brandon must have been about eight or nine here.”

Amanda held the picture gently, her smile trembling. She looked at her son, his partner, and her grandchildren—children she hadn’t even known existed until now. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This means more than you can imagine.”

Vivian sat back down, watching the emotions play out on Amanda’s face. “They’re happy, Amanda. Robby has found a life filled with love. Isn’t that what matters?”

Amanda nodded, but her voice wavered. “It is. But I can’t help but wonder… does he think about me? About Tanner? Does he miss us?”

Vivian placed a comforting hand on Amanda’s. “He has never spoken ill of you, Amanda. But I think he’s been hurt deeply. It takes time to heal wounds like that.”

After spending another hour talking with Vivian, Tanner glanced at his watch and sighed. “We should get going,” he said reluctantly. “Our flight back to the city is leaving soon, and we need to make it in time.” He didn’t elaborate, and Vivian didn’t press him.

As they stood, Vivian walked them to the door. Tanner turned to her, his expression earnest. “Vivian… could you keep our meeting here between us, please? Like I said, our family dynamic is really complicated, and we don’t want to cause anyone any trouble.”

“Of course,” Vivian replied, her tone warm and reassuring. “I’ll keep it between us. But here…” She reached into a small drawer by the door and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it to him. “This is their phone number. I know Robby would be so happy to hear from the both of you. I hope you’ll reach out to him.”

Tanner stared at the paper for a moment, his fingers trembling slightly as he took it. “Thank you, Vivian. We’ll definitely make the effort.” His voice was soft, almost uncertain.

Amanda reached out and clasped Vivian’s hands. “Thank you for your hospitality, for taking the time to talk with us today. And for sharing so much about Robby and Manny. It means more to us than you’ll ever know.”

Vivian smiled gently. “Robby and Manny have built a beautiful life together. You should be proud of him, Amanda. He’s your son.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I am. I always have been.”

Amanda never got the chance to speak with Robby. A few months after the visit, she passed away. The doctors had told her earlier that year that she had an aggressive form of cancer, and the prognosis had been grim.

The trip to the small, sleepy town where Manny’s mother lived had taken every ounce of her strength, but it was a journey she had been determined to make. She needed to see for herself the life Robby had built, the family he had created, and the happiness he had found.

As she sat in the quiet of her final days, Amanda found peace knowing that Robby had accomplished so much. He had a partner… no, a husband who loved him, children who adored him, and a life filled with meaning. She had missed so much of it, but she could rest knowing he was happy, loved, and thriving. And most importantly, that she was a grandmother, several times over—a truth that brought her a bittersweet comfort.

Though the chance to reconnect directly with her son had slipped away, Amanda held on to the memory of Vivian’s warmth, the stories she’d shared, and the photographs of Robby’s smiling face. It was enough. It had to be. Yet, as she sat in the quiet of the hospice, alone, the echoes of unfinished conversations and fractured bonds lingered in her mind. Life, she realized, often left behind pieces that didn’t always fit back together.

Elsewhere, Tanner sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the faint hum of the city outside barely registering in his mind. It was a far cry from the grandeur of his home. What was his home. On the coffee table in front of him lay a stack of papers. The word DIVORCE was stamped across the top in bold, unforgiving letters. His hand trembled as he reached for his phone.

For weeks, he’d stared at the phone number Vivian had given him. For weeks, he’d wanted to call. But every time, fear had stopped him—fear of rejection, fear of hearing Robby’s voice and knowing he could never take back the years of hurt.

Tonight, he pressed the call button.

The phone rang, and Tanner’s breath hitched as he gripped the receiver tighter. A young voice answered on the other end, cheerful and curious.

“Hello? This is Brandon,” the voice said.

Tanner froze, his throat tightening. He couldn’t speak. He heard the boy say “Hello?” again, a few more times, each one tinged with increasing confusion.

In the background, Tanner heard Robby’s familiar voice. “Who is it, Brandon?”

“Uh, I don’t know, Dad,” Brandon replied. “They’re not saying anything.”

Tanner quickly ended the call, his hand trembling as he set the phone down. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away, his heart both aching and relieved to hear his nephew’s voice for the first time.

He had sent cards to Robby, and Manny. He wondered if Robby ever looked at them, if he gave the small gifts to his niece and nephews. Maybe he would work up the courage one day and speak to Robby.

A few nights later, Tanner tried again. This time, it was a different voice that answered—softer, quieter.

“Hello? This is Ally,” the girl said, her tone cautious but kind.

Tanner held the phone to his ear, unable to say anything. His free hand clenched the divorce papers tightly, the edges crumpling under his grip.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Ally repeated, her voice growing softer. “Dad, someone’s on the phone, but they’re not saying anything.”

“Ally, hang up if they’re not speaking,” Robby’s voice said in the background.

“Okay,” she replied, sounding disappointed. The line went dead.

On his third attempt, Tanner called again. Determined to speak. This time, it was Kyle who picked up.

“Yo! Kyle here. Who’s this?” the boy said with a chuckle. When there was no response, Kyle repeated himself, his voice tinged with confusion. “Hello? Anyone there?”

“Who is it?” Robby called from somewhere nearby.

“Don’t know, Dad. No one’s talking,” Kyle replied before ending the call with an annoyed huff.

Finally, Tanner called one last time. This time, it was Robby who answered directly.Could he muster enough courage to speak to his little brother? To explain himself? To tell him that mom was gone? To tell him that even now, their father controlled the narrative but that he had escaped and was living his truth.

“Hello?” Robby’s voice was calm but curious. “Hello? Who’s there?”

Tanner gripped the phone so tightly it hurt. He could hear the faint sounds of laughter in the background—the happy murmur of family life. He could make out the voices - Brandon, Kyle, Ally and Manny. Tears streamed down his face as he listened, his silence stretching into the void.

“Hello?” Robby said again, his tone firmer now. “If this is a prank, it’s not funny.”

On the other end, Tanner silently cried, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the sobs threatening to break through. He clutched the divorce papers in one hand, the other still pressed against the phone.

“Whoever this is, I hope you’re okay,” Robby said, softer now. “Goodbye.”

He stared at the phone for a long moment, his mind racing. Who could it be? Could it be Tanner? Maybe even his mom? The thought flickered in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. No… They hadn’t spoken to him in years. If they’d wanted to, they could have. But they chose not to.

The familiar ache settled in his chest. He knew his father was behind everything, the master manipulator who had turned them all against him. But still… they could have tried. They could have found a way to reach out, to fight against the pull of his father’s influence. Yet they hadn’t. That silence spoke louder than any words.

With a heavy sigh, Robby set the phone down, the unanswered questions swirling in his mind like a storm that refused to settle.

Just as the line went dead, Tanner heard Robby’s voice faintly in the background. “Hey, wait for me! We’re not supposed to eat unless we’re all at the table. Manny… that’s cheating!” Laughter followed, warm and genuine.

The silence that replaced it was deafening. Tanner sat there, clutching the phone in his hand, his breath shaky. The sound of Robby’s laughter echoed in his mind, a sharp contrast to the empty stillness of his apartment.

Slowly, he set the phone down. For a long moment, he just sat there, his tears falling freely, his shoulders trembling as the weight of everything he’d lost—and everything he’d never had—pressed down on him.

He looked down at the divorce papers again. It had been one of the hardest decisions of his life, but as he stared at the unsigned line at the bottom, a weight lifted off his chest.

For the first time in years, Tanner allowed himself to hope. To imagine a life where he wasn’t hiding, where he wasn’t lying to himself or anyone else. He had taken the first step, and though the road ahead was uncertain, it was his.

Tanner picked up a pen and signed his name at the bottom of the papers, the ink smudging slightly as a tear fell onto the page. He exhaled shakily, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips.

“Goodbye, Cindy,” he whispered, setting the pen down.

For the first time in years, Tanner felt free.