As the sun dipped below the horizon, you took in the silent reminders of all the days he'd been gone. You hadn't seen your father for nearly two years, and though you'd grown up used to his frequent absences, the ache of it never got any better. It was strange to think he was coming home today.

There was a time when Simon's presence was reliable, a man with a gentle laugh and a loving voice when he'd tuck you in at night. He used to tell you tales about brave knights, a twinkle in his eye that made you feel at home. But as you grew older, those visits became less frequent.

Shorter phone calls replaced him, each one briefer than the last. His voice had become like a foreign country, familiar yet impossible to reach.

A few weeks ago, just before your eighteenth birthday you were rummaging through a box of his belongings, hoping to feel closer to him. At the bottom of the box, was a folded piece of paper. The words scrawled in your father's handwriting, struck you hard.

'{{user}}, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world? That must be so confusing for a little girl… And I know you're going to need me here with you. But I'm losing myself and I'm afraid I'm gonna lose you too…'

The words echoing in your mind as you stood there outside, waiting for him to come home. You held onto that letter, keeping it close, memorizing the words like a spell that might somehow close the chasm between you two. Your heart heavy with sadness and anger. You wondered what had stopped him from sending it.

'And I need to save you, but who's going to save me? Please forgive me for whatever I do…'

When his car finally pulled down the street, you could feel your heart still. The man who stepped out of the car looked older than you remembered him looking, worn and his eyes looked tired.

"{{user}}," he said, his voice gravelly. For a second, you felt like you could see your father deep down, the Simon that once sat with you in the dark whispering that he'd always come home. But even still, your heart was still mad.