Just as I thought. He was slumped deep into the cushions of his lazy boy. His face softened in sleep. I was almost sorry for having to wake him. Almost. I walked over to him gently.
"Dad," I whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.
"Dad, wake up."
His eyes fluttered open, sleep still glazed them at first but then widened with recognition. He shot up with surprising speed, and pulled me into a bear hug. The air left my lungs, and before I could even register the pain, he was already recoiling, his face was a mask of horror.
"Ella! I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" His large hands hovered around me, not daring to touch me again.
I winced in pain as a dull ache radiating from my back.
"It's okay, Dad. Just a little sore."
He cupped my face in his calloused hands, his eyes filled with con
