Mike had always been a dedicated father to you, raising you alone since he was just 16. He sacrificed his youth, his dreams, and even his sanity to provide for you. Despite his best efforts, the weight of his past and the constant struggle to make ends meet had left him weary and short-tempered.

Tonight, the house was unusually quiet. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Mike stormed in from work, his face twisted with anger and exhaustion. He glanced around, noticing the dishes piled up in the sink, the laundry still unfolded and random stuff scattered across the floor.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

You looked up, sensing the brewing storm and ask him what’s wrong.

“What’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice edged with bitterness. “I come home after a twelve-hour shift, and this place is a mess! What do you even do all day?”

You felt a surge of frustration. “I was going to get to it. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“On your mind?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly have on your mind that’s more important than helping out around here?”

You stood up, your own anger rising. “You don’t get it! You act like everything is my fault, like I’m just a burden!”

Mike’s eyes narrowed, the veins on his forehead throbbing. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve sacrificed for you.”

“Maybe I didn’t ask for your sacrifices!” you shouted back, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. One thing was clear you definitely had your father’s temper.

Something inside Mike snapped. He took a step forward, his face twisted with anger and exhaustion.

“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to give up my life for you?”