"Are you really my father?" Zarra asked.
Of course she would ask that.
She was barely two when Adrian left us. She didn't remember him. Not his face. Not his voice. Probably not even the feeling of being held by him.
Adrian visibly froze at the question.
His expression changed, his face almost reddening. To be honest, a small part of me wanted to laugh. Not because it was funny.
But because perhaps, for the first time, Adrian was facing the consequence of his own absence.
We were all sitting in the living room. I occupied the single chair while Adrian sat on the opposite couch with the kids. Liam remained on the other couch, quietly observing everything. The entire situation felt awkward. Unnaturally awkward. Like we were trying to recreate a family that had stopped existing years ag
