Rocky Speech To Son Novels & Stories

I asked, trying to be a middleman in fixing these never-ending differences between Rocky and Leo. “Yeah, we spoke later that night, but it wasn’t for long; he also refused to let me come over. I am worried." Rocky said dowdily, holding on to my hand tightly as he looked on at me needily. "Please, can you relay my message to him?" “What message?” Rocky hesistated, “Never mind,” he slouched his shoulders. “Your son won’t like it if I tell you directly; he will be more than mad at me."

After a while, he wakes up, and I can see he feels better but with a look of profound pain for how his son ended. “I'm sorry, Mr. Lombardi, it wasn't a good idea to show you that. I think it's best if we don't continue with this alliance.” I stand up, having been crouching, and as I'm about to walk away, he grabs my hand. “No, ma'am, please don't go. Parents must always take care of their children, but when they leave us, it's hard to be who we once were, and I didn't protect my son as I should have.” He lowers his head, and I know he is holding back tears, trying to be strong at all times.

He belonged there. My son. The boy squirmed, letting out the smallest noise; a squeak, really. And I laughed. Actually laughed. “You hear that? He already sounds like he’s ready to boss the world around.” I said, giving a proud father smile. Roman finally spoke then, his voice low but full of warmth. “He’s already got his father’s lungs.” That earned a round of chuckles from everyone, even Elaine, who dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she clearly thought no one saw. Kenny sniffled quietly beside her, smiling at Blake like she’d just witnessed a miracle.

Because no matter what DNA said. No matter what biology said. This man was my father. Always. Forever. “You look beautiful.” His voice was rough. I smiled through tears. “You have to say that.” “No.” He shook his head gently. “I really don’t.” That made me laugh. Then cry harder. Wonderful. Dad crossed the room. Stopping directly in front of me. His eyes shining. Proud. Emotional. Loving. The same way they always had. “I’ve been practicing a speech.”

Life had already complicated enough things for him. I struggled to find the right words, the ones that would make sense to a five-year-old, to tell him that I wasn’t really his father. Before I could speak, a voice called sharply from the doorway. “Brandon!”