“Mum…” I protested, gasping for air and freedom. She loosened her grip and apologized, planting a soft kiss on my forehead.
I loved it—I loved hugs, I loved being in her arms—but something about today felt different.
It felt like a goodbye.
I was scared.
She took me to my father. He came closer and stayed in front of us while she carried me in her arms. He looked at me with worried eyes.
“My princess,” he said, as he fondly called me, pressing his forehead unto mine. “I love you.” he muttered.
I smiled and held his face playfully, pulling his blonde hair.
"Ouch!” He feigned a look and chuckled, but there was something about his laughter.
It wasn’t excitement. It wasn't free, it wasn't wholesome. It was bitterness laced with something else.
Something deeper.
“What’s going on dadd
