The silence stretched out, taut as a rope pulled too tight, and for a moment, Buck thought it might snap entirely. His mother's gaze darted to Christopher, then back to Buck, as if trying to reconcile the boy in the doorway with the man standing in front of her.
His father, predictably, said nothing, just stared at Buck with that same inscrutable expression that had haunted his childhood. Buck could feel the weight of their judgment pressing down on him, but it wasn't crushing him the way it used to.
Not with Eddie standing firm at his side, not with Christopher watching from the doorway, his face lit up with curiosity instead of fear.
"You've got quite the setup here," his father said finally, his voice as monotone as ever. "Nice place. Stable."
The implication wasn't subtle, and Buck's stomach twisted. Stable. As if the house wasn't a home, as if the family he'd built here was just a passing phase, a mirage that would disappear the moment they decided to step back into his life. Before Buck could say anything, Eddie stepped in, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"It's more than a setup," Eddie said, his tone calm but unyielding. "It's a family. A real one."
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Buck saw the flicker of something in his mother's eyes—discomfort, maybe, or resentment. She straightened her shoulders, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in her blazer. "Evan," she began, her voice clipped, "we came here to talk. Not to—" Her gaze flicked to Eddie, then back to Buck. "Not to argue."
"Funny," Buck said, his voice sharper than he intended. "I don't remember inviting you here at all."
"Buck," Eddie said softly, his hand brushing against Buck's arm in a subtle reminder to breathe. Buck forced himself to take a deep breath, to let the anger simmer instead of boil over. Eddie was right—losing his temper wouldn't help. Not with them. It never had.
"We're here because we thought it was time," his mother continued, ignoring his outburst. "Time to put the past behind us and start fresh."
Buck barked out a laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. "Start fresh? You don't get to just show up after years of silence and pretend everything's fine. You don't get to meet Chris and play the doting grandparents when you couldn't even be decent parents."
"Evan, that's not fair," his mother said, her voice sharp. "We did what we thought was best."
"For who?" Buck snapped. "For me? Because if you think abandoning me was what was best, then you have no idea what I've been through. What I've had to deal with because of you."
His mother's face hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "We didn't abandon you. You're being dramatic."
"Dramatic?" Buck's voice rose, and Eddie's hand tightened on his arm, grounding him. "You never cared about me. Not really. I was just a replacement for Daniel, and when I didn't measure up, you gave up on me. Don't act like you didn't."
The name hung in the air, a ghost between them. His parents' faces barely shifted, but Buck knew the truth—it was a wound they'd never healed from, one they'd tried to bury under years of silence and neglect. But Buck wasn't their scapegoat anymore. He wasn't the scared little boy begging for scraps of love. He had people who loved him now. People who saw him for who he was and didn't expect him to be anything else.
Christopher chose that moment to step forward, his small hand clutching the doorframe for balance. "Why's everybody yelling?" he asked, his voice curious but cautious, and Buck's heart clenched.
"No one's yelling, mijo," Eddie said quickly, his voice softening as he turned to Christopher. "We're just talking."
Christopher tilted his head, his gaze flicking between Buck and his parents. "Who are they?"
Buck hesitated, the words caught in his throat. How was he supposed to explain? Before he could say anything, his mother spoke, her voice overly sweet in a way that made Buck's skin crawl. "We're your grandparents, Christopher," she said, taking a step forward. "We've been looking forward to meeting you."
Christopher frowned, leaning closer to Eddie. "I already have grandparents."
Buck had to bite back a laugh at the bluntness of Christopher's statement, but Eddie didn't even flinch. "That's right, buddy," Eddie said, his tone full of quiet pride. "And you've got a pretty great family here, don't you?"
Christopher nodded, his expression brightening. "Yeah! Buck's the best. He makes pancakes shaped like dinosaurs."
Buck felt a lump rise in his throat, his chest tightening with a rush of emotion he couldn't put into words. His parents, on the other hand, looked completely thrown, their polished facades cracking under the weight of Christopher's innocence.
"That's nice," his mother said stiffly, clearly at a loss. She glanced at Buck, her gaze colder now. "We just wanted to be a part of his life, Evan. That's all."
"You don't get to decide that," Buck said, his voice steady now. "You don't get to swoop in and pretend you care when you've never cared about me. Chris doesn't need grandparents like you. He's got more love in his life than I ever had growing up, and I'm not letting you take that away from him."
His mother opened her mouth to argue, but Eddie stepped forward, his stance protective. "I think it's time for you to go," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Buck's made his decision. You're not welcome here."
For once, Buck's parents didn't argue. They exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them, and then turned to leave without another word. The door closed behind them, and Buck let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything he'd just said.
Eddie was there in an instant, his hand warm on Buck's back. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Buck nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. I think I am."
And for the first time in a long time, he meant it.