Nina
The next morning, I finally met with my father for the first time. Not in a state of dire stress or danger, but instead…
Breakfast.
Enzo and I walked into the large dining room together to see a long chestnut table, at one end of which was a stunning array of fragrant breakfast foods, brightly colored fruits, and steaming cups of coffee. My father was sitting at the chair at the end of the table, and stood when we entered. Without a word, he simply held his arms out for me and walked up to me, pulling me in for a tight hug before I could even say anything. I felt a bit tense being hugged by this man who I hardly knew, despite the fact that he was my biological father, and when we pulled away I stammered to come up with something to say.
“I know it’s a lot to process,”
