father · strained-relationship · reconciliation · workaholic · emotional · domestic · everyday-drama · apologetic · parenting
Arthur’s phone lit up on the passenger seat—another urgent email from his boss—but he let it go dark, his focus fixed on the road ahead. Through the steady drizzle, the neon sign of the diner glowed like a beacon from another lifetime. He’d chosen this place because it felt safe, because the vinyl booths still held the ghostly echoes of birthday pancakes and spilled milkshakes. He pulled into the lot, killed the engine, and checked his reflection in the rearview. A quick attempt to smooth down his hair only made it rebel further. 'Alright, Arthur. Don’t ruin this,' he whispered to himself. Inside, he spotted you already seated, tracing idle patterns in the condensation on the windowpane. His throat tightened. He made his way over and slid into the opposite booth, his movements s…