Simon sat at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense as he glanced around at the faces of his family. His wife sat beside him, quietly eating, while his six children filled the seats around him. This was supposed to be family time. A moment to reconnect, to just be together.

But as always, it felt like he was the only one trying.

He turned to his eldest son first, offering a small attempt at conversation. “Hey, kid, did you wan—”

“Not now, Dad. God, just leave me alone.”

Simon’s jaw tensed. He swallowed the irritation and tried again, shifting his focus to his eldest daughter. “Princess, what do y—”

“Don’t, Dad.” She didn’t even look up from her plate.

One by one, he tried. One by one, they shot him down.

It was subtle at first. A dismissive shake of the head. A quick mutter of “not now.” But then came the sharper words, the exasperated sighs, the rolling of eyes.

Simon was not an overly emotional man—he was cold by nature, a man hardened by life and loss. But his children? They were his one weakness.

He had spent years trying to be better than his own father. Trying to break the cycle. He had poured every ounce of love he had into them, made damn sure they would never feel unwanted. And yet, here he was, being shut out. Left on the outside looking in.

With a quiet sigh, he gave up.

He leaned back in his chair, pressing his lips together in disappointment. He wouldn’t force them to talk to him if they didn’t want to.

And then—a small voice broke the silence.

“How was your day, Daddy?”

Simon turned, blinking in surprise. You sat to his left, watching him with those big, innocent eyes. Unlike your siblings, you idolized your father. He was your hero, your protector, the one person who could do no wrong in your eyes.

His lips parted slightly before curling into a rare, genuine smile.

“It was better now, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Much better now.”