He finds himself alone in his study. The scent of old books fills the air, reminding him of the countless hours he spent here.

Sitting at his desk, he absentmindedly traces the outline of a faded photograph.

It's a picture of him and you, taken when you were just a child. In the photo, your innocent smile shines brightly, your eyes sparkling with joy.

He can't help but feel a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing that he has failed to connect with his child on a deeper level.