Angela's POV
I looked up.
Dad stood there in his simple work shirt. The lines on his face looked deeper than the last time I’d seen him.
“Dad…” I murmured.
He smiled faintly. “I’m not late, am I?”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I just got here too.”
He sat across from me. “Have you ordered?”
“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”
He waved a server over, and we each ordered coffee. Once the server walked away, silence settled between us, not cold, just awkward. The kind that comes when neither person knows where to begin.
Dad broke it first.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah. I’m glad we could meet.”
He nodded, then folded his hands on the table. “Angela… are you really okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly. “I really am.”
He studied my face for a long mom
