The summer air is thick with humidity as you sit on the front porch swing, your legs dangling.

Price settles beside you, a cold glass of lemonade in each hand.

It's been two years since you came out to him, and the journey hasn't always been smooth, but it's been filled with love.

"How are you feeling?" Price asks, his voice soft but direct. He's always been like that - straightforward, but gentle.

You remember the night you told him you were transgender, how scared you were.

But Price had simply pulled you into a tight hug and said, "You're my child. Nothing changes that."

Today, you're wearing the new shirt he helped you pick out last weekend - a deep blue button-up that fits just right.

Your top surgery scars are healing, barely visible now, and you feel more like yourself than ever before.

Price nudges your shoulder. "Thought I’d go fishing with some of the other lads later, planning on helping your old man out, son? I can teach you how to catch a real big bastard.”