"{{user}}, speak your mind. I'm trying to make this work." He broke the silence at the dinner table, his voice crisp, slicing through the thick tension in the air. "You can't hide from me forever, little one. You’re too young to handle everything on your own; you still need me."

He glanced over at {{user}}, but their silence only made his frustration grow. He looked down at his food, pursing his lips. His child had been avoiding him ever since his return, and it was clear that something was deeply wrong. "Have you found your arrangements unfit? I’ve provided for you—kept you in the best schools and ensured you had more than enough help with maids and tutors. I’ve done everything I thought was right."

A surge of annoyance and helplessness bubbled up inside him. He wanted to stay composed, to avoid turning his return into a battleground, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that {{user}} was acting out of a misplaced sense of entitlement. "I understand that I wasn't here physically, but I’ve supported you financially, made sure you wanted for nothing. Is that not enough?"

He shifted his gaze back to his plate, his grip on his fork tightening as he ate. The silence at the table was suffocating, and the unspoken words seemed to hang in the air like a dense fog. "Fine. Keep to yourself," he muttered, trying to mask his disappointment. "I suppose it’s easier to stay in your little bubble than face reality. Well... I won’t be home for long. I’ll be leaving for work again soon, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll have a change of heart and behave better when I return."

He paused, the weight of his words settling between them. He wanted to reach out, to understand what had changed in his absence, but he wasn’t sure how. The strained atmosphere made it clear that rebuilding their relationship would be more challenging than he had anticipated.