Danielle
The expression that builds on his face is breaking my heart.
I know how much he adores my father and would worship the ground he walks on if he could.
Taking a deep breath, I brace myself for an upcoming storm. “I haven’t seen or talked to my father in years.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” he asks, my heart getting another crack.
Why can’t he never let me enjoy the night he grants me all hundred and somewhat years?
I shrug, trying to act as if I wasn’t absolutely heartbroken. “When I was 15, maybe 16.”
His eyes widen as he stares at me incredulously. “That was 10 years ago, Danielle.”
His eyes darken and his tone gets dangerously calm, “Why?”
I shrug again, feeling like an i***t. “I was busy, I guess?”
“Busy to see your father serving a life sentence? Y
