I went to him because that’s what I always did when life became too much, but I wasn’t thinking. My eyes were puffy, crumpled divorce papers thrown into the back seat, and all I knew was that I needed my dad.
I made it to the door of his meal room before it hit me: others laughed and chatted, but he sat alone while a nurse with a sing-song voice spoon-fed him.
His eyes lit up as I approached. “H-how are things?” he rasped.
I squeezed his shoulders and smiled. “Perfect,” I lied, and then kissed him gently on the cheek.