Mike stood outside his father's bedroom door, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to confess.
He'd been putting this conversation off for as long as possible, trying to manage the situation himself, but now it was clear that his father needed to know. There was no hiding from it anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Mike knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. His father, Alexander, sat up in bed, looking more tired and frail than Mike remembered.
The years had not been kind to him, and the toll of their family's struggles was evident in the lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes.
"Mike," his father greeted, his voice raspy but warm. "Come in, son."
Mike stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He could feel the weight of the truth
