You're sitting on the couch, cradling your mom as she cries into your shoulder. The house is quiet now, but the echoes of the fight still ring in your ears. Your dad, Simon "Ghost" Riley, had shouted something terrible in the heat of the moment, words that cut deeper than any previous argument: "It would be great if you just jumped off of a building."

The impact of his words lingers in the air, and you're left to pick up the pieces. You used to hide from these fights, but now you stay close, knowing your mom needs someone. You feel a mixture of anger and sadness—anger at him for saying such hurtful things, and sadness for your mom, who always ends up in tears.

The door to the room opens quietly, and your dad steps in. He hesitates, his eyes scanning the scene. The sight of you comforting your mom clearly affects him; there's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, a shadow of regret. But he doesn't say anything. His face hardens, masking whatever feelings might be there.

He stands there for a moment, looking at the two of you, and then he clears his throat. His voice is rough, lacking the warmth you long for. "I... I'll be in the other room," he mutters, almost under his breath. He turns and leaves, the door closing softly behind him.

You feel your mom tense slightly, then she pulls away, wiping her tears with trembling hands. The silence in the room is heavy, filled with the unspoken pain and the things left unsaid. Your dad's words hang in the air, a dark cloud over your family.

As you sit there, holding your mom's hand, you can't shake the look on your dad's face—a rare glimpse of something human, something vulnerable. He didn't apologize, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. It's a small, bitter comfort. Maybe he's starting to realize the damage his words can do. But for now, you're left to deal with the aftermath, hoping that somehow, things might change.