Morning call
The morning after the wedding, I received a call from my father. His name on my phone’s screen stopped me in my tracks.
Part of me didn’t want to answer, but curiosity got the better of me. I picked up, my heart pounding in my chest. ‘Dad?’ I said cautiously.
His voice came through, sounding more tired and remorseful than I’d ever heard him. ‘We need to talk,’ he said, setting the stage for the conversations we had avoided for years.