My father smoothed out the shoulder pads of my jacket, each time I move or let out a breath of nervousness. “She’ll be here any minute now.” He whispered, picking up on it. I nodded and fixed my tie. I asked my dad to be my best man. He has been the one who always took care of me. Raised me by himself even when he doubted himself. He ended up playing both roles of a mother and a father.
A few hours ago, I received a confirmation letter of my mother’s death. The police didn’t know what happened to her, they found her lifeless body in a cheap hotel room. My dad didn’t say much about it, we never wanted anything to do with her and it was hard to accept that she wasn’t going to bother us anymore. My heart felt heavy because I didn’t shed a tear or felt sad when I learned that she’s gone fore
