Grandpa looked at him with growing disappointment, his gaze colder than ever.
“Only son? Now you remember you’re my son? When you kicked my grandson out, did you remember that? You’re in your fifties, forcing your newly graduated son to live on his own, while you live comfortably off your old man’s money! Don’t you have any shame, Wayne?” His voiced cracked with deep disappointment.
“Get out! Leave this house right now! Go live your life ‘independently’!”
My father froze in place, his face shifting from pale to green, then to red.
He glanced at Grandpa’s icy expression, then at Grandma’s tearful yet resolute eyes.
Finally, his gaze fell on me.
His eyes were complicated—filled with anger, resentment and perhaps, somewhere deep down, a hint of regret.
The air was thick with silence.
“Dad, Mom, I... I was wrong,” he finally said, his voice dry and forced, deliberately softening.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have treated Leo that way.”
Grandpa stared at him coldly, saying nothing. Grandma turned away, wiping the corners of her eyes.
Sensing the tension, my father quickly turned to me.