The most awkward moment for Ray was when his mother helped him bathe. He tried to suppress his arousal, but it wasn't always possible. So he brought up the idea of hiring someone to help him with this. Initially, he wanted to set everything up so he could manage independently, but Rosie's house was too small for such solutions.
Ray's days became extremely monotonous: he either listened to the audiobooks recorded by Lily, trained, or, together with his mother, searched for leads.
Ray didn't want his mother to limit herself because of him, but even before, it hadn't been easy for her to leave him alone. And after everything that had happened, she had quit her job entirely, spending almost all her time with her son.
After this, Ray changed a lot. The sarcastic bickering between them became much rarer — which, in truth, wasn't surprising: considering what they had been through, the former lightness would never return. But Amy was worried that her son was constantly immersed in his own — far from healthy — thoughts. She missed those times, but clearly understood: they were gone forever.
A ring of the doorbell distracted Amy from cooking. Friends from Ray's old job often dropped by. But seeing the unexpected guest, the woman immediately tried to slam the door shut.
"I understand you don't want to see me, and that I will never deserve your forgiveness. But I'm not here for that. I have a way to help our son, so you have to hear me out."
Hearing these words, Amy, despite the hurt and hatred, couldn't close the door. In front of her sat a man in a wheelchair. He was a little over thirty, but he looked sixty. It was clear from his appearance: alcohol and drug abuse had left a deep mark.
When Amy let the unexpected guest in, they went to the kitchen. Ricky glanced at his son — a flicker of regret, which seemed sincere, passed through his eyes.
"Speak. How can you help our son?" Amy said dryly. "If you have nothing to say, just get lost."
"It took me far too long to realize what an idiot I've been… but I have finally realized it. Right now, I am the head of the political party 'All Are Equal.' We've invested considerable funds into the development of medicine. We have our own medical center where anyone who wishes can receive treatment. It costs money, but my reputation and the reputation of other party members allowed us to find sponsors."
"This is the best place where Ray can get help… if it's even possible."
Amy felt relief hearing this news, whereas Ray remained completely calm — as if this didn't concern him. Picking up the notepad, he wrote:
"First, I'm sure this isn't free. Second, even if it's true — don't even hope that I can forgive you."
Reading it, Ricky sighed:
"I never hoped that either of you could forgive me. What I did is unforgivable. Even if you agree, I'm not a doctor and can't give any guarantees. I'm not sure they can truly help. This attempt at treatment could be a one-way ticket. It's up to you to decide. And yes, you're right — it's not free. If everything goes well, you will have to speak to journalists and say what the members of my staff dictate to you."
Ray hated his father with every fiber of his being. Even the fact that he had brought him — albeit illusory — hope, did nothing to soften that hatred. But he was ready to play this game and go all-in — simply because he had nothing to lose but this useless life.
If before, he had been, albeit with difficulty, a pillar of support for his mother, now he had become merely a burden, dragging her down. So Ray wrote without hesitation:
"Alright. I agree."
When Ricky left, having discussed all the details, Amy asked worriedly:
"Son, are you sure?"
He replied, writing on paper:
"My current existence can't even be called a life. So this is the only choice I have. Whatever the outcome, I only hope you can move on. I don't want to be the one who drags you down."
"You can talk to him. You can even forgive him. But never let him into your heart again. He has lost the right to be there."
"I have no intention of forgiving him and will try to keep communication to a minimum," said Amy. "Like you, I haven't followed his life — neither of us cared about him."
"I wouldn't have taken a penny from him, but all these years, he never even tried to help. The fact that he appeared now tells me only one thing: we have become a convenient political tool in his game."