Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 175

Damon pov

Marcus arrived two days later, and I found myself watching from the doorway as he stepped out of his car, taking in the pack compound he apparently hadn't set foot in for decades, something visibly uncertain in the way he paused before actually approaching the house.

My father moved first, crossing the distance between them without hesitation, and I watched, genuinely surprised, as the two brothers embraced—not the brief, careful hug I might have expected given decades of estrangement, but something considerably longer, more desperate, both of them holding on with the kind of grip that suggested neither wanted to be the first to actually let go.

Neither said anything for a long moment, simply standing there together, and I found myself understanding, watching them, exactly how much both of them had apparently needed this—not just the practical resolution of Nadia's situation, but genuine, long-overdue reconciliation between two brothers who'd clearly carried this particular grief and estrangement for far too long.

"I'm sorry," Marcus finally said, his voice thick with obvious emotion as they eventually pulled back slightly, though he kept a hand braced against my father's shoulder, apparently unwilling to fully release the physical connection just yet. "For all of it, Robert. For staying away so long, for letting pride and stubbornness keep me from actually reaching out, even after whatever happened with Genevieve clearly ended."

"We both share responsibility for that distance," my father said gently. "I could have reached out too, tried harder to actually bridge whatever divide existed between us."

"Twenty-three years," Marcus said, shaking his head slightly, something genuinely regretful in his expression. "I have a daughter who's twenty-three years old, and I'm only just now learning she exists, only just now standing here after decades of stubborn, pointless estrangement from my own brother."

"We can't undo that time," my father said. "But we can actually choose differently going forward."

Marcus nodded, something resolved entering his expression despite the obvious continued weight of everything he was processing, and I found myself moving forward finally, understanding it was time to actually introduce him properly to the rest of our family.

"Uncle Marcus," I said, extending my hand as he turned toward me, something warm crossing his tired but genuine expression.

"Damon." He shook my hand firmly, studying me with obvious, careful attention. "Last time I saw you, you were barely old enough to walk. Look at you now."

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