I don't like coming home because this house doesn't have memories that I would want to remember, but since dad said he loves the house, I just have to.
But I try as much as possible to come here.
I take a moment before I press the doorbell. A moment later he opens the door, dressed in a kitchen apron. I can't help but smile.
"Dad what's this?" I ask looking at his outfit.
"Hi too, sweetheart."
He pulls me into a warm hug before letting me in.
"It's been a while since you came home so I thought maybe I should prepare something myself." I shake my head and laugh.
"You didn't have to dad." He has helps to do the work for him.
"My daughter comes home for dinner and I let someone else do the cooking, I'm sure your mother would be turning in her grave if I ever made that mistake." The m
