Their presence
As I walked in, my parents were already seated, my father looking older than I remembered, my mother’s eyes filled with a mix of guilt and hope.
They hadn’t changed much, except for a few more gray hairs and the weariness etched on their faces. I took a deep breath and approached them, my heart pounding.
‘Hi,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. They looked up, their expressions a tangle of regret and relief.