His shoulders slumped. "Oh, sweetie, don't say sorry. And please, don't cry. You didn't do anything wrong. I know my decision didn't make sense to you before, but I didn't doubt for one minute that you'll come around," he said. He even touched the screen like he was wiping the tears in my eyes.
I wiped my tears, and I saw Mom being teary-eyed too. She must be happy that Dad and I are okay now.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "No. No sweetie. I am not mad at you. I know you. I knew you would feel like that when I leave, so I was expecting it," he said. "I actually expected the worse."
"W-what worse?"
"Like you'd be throwing your mother's vases on me," he said while laughing.
"Daddy, you're just mean to me now," I pouted. I felt like that seven-year-old kid agai
