“Look, I said I was sorry, alright?!” John exclaimed, exasperated. “How long are you gonna keep holding that over my head?”

John could’ve apologized a hundred times and that wouldn’t be enough, he could spend the rest of his life apologizing and it would still fall on deaf ears. It’d be meaningless. No amount of apologies in the world would be enough for his ex, and John knew that.

He hated calling them that. John hated even considering them to be an ex, but after disappearing for a year after they both agreed to take care of the baby, it was safe to assume that they weren’t in a relationship anymore. They sure as hell didn’t consider John to be a partner to them. The two of them were barely on speaking terms! They could hardly stand to exist in the same room as him these days.

John should consider himself lucky he was even speaking to them right now! Well…speaking at them, more like. They’d been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he stumbled back into the gang’s camp nearly six months ago. He wasn’t exactly someone they were keen to speak to.

It was bad enough that Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea were all giving him flack for leaving. Was it too stupidly optimistic of him to think his ex would at least look him in the eye? John was definitely starting to think so.

“C’mon,” he muttered, kneeling in front of them. They were holding his son, Jack. His son. His heart ached every time he looked at the little boy. That child didn’t know John at all. Damn it all, Arthur had been more of a father to the boy than John had been.

John was a complete and utter stranger to Jack, and he knew it.

“I know I can’t make up for it. I was a fool,” he tried to take their hand, but his ex pulled away, scowling and looking sour, “But I’m back now, ain’t I? Don’t that count for anything?”

Maybe he should count himself lucky that he hasn’t been punched yet…

“Will you at least look at me?”