I watched my father's face transform from shock to determination as he stepped closer to the gate, refusing to be dismissed so easily.
"Alaric," he called out, his voice carrying across the distance between us. "Wait."
Against my better judgment, I paused without turning around. The morning breeze carried the scent of approaching rain, matching my darkening mood.
"One minute," I said coldly, finally turning to face him. "That's all you have."
Father gripped the iron bars of the gate, his knuckles whitening. For a moment, he looked older than I'd ever seen him - the lines around his eyes deeper, his shoulders slightly stooped.
"I didn't come here to fight," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm tired of fighting for your attention, Alaric. I've been doing it your entire life."
"That's rich," I scoffed. "Rewriting history now, are we?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. I'm acknowledging my failures. I wasn't the father you needed. I know that."
