My Father Returned After 15 Years Missing — But Not To Apologize
My Father Returned After 15 Years Missing — But Not To Apologize
He stood at the gate, much older, carrying a worn-out bag. Neighbors gathered, whispering, their eyes filled with curiosity and pity. I froze. For fifteen years, I had imagined this moment: my father returning, embracing me tightly, breaking down in tears and saying he was sorry for leaving me to grow up without him.
But instead, he simply said in a cold, urgent tone:
“Come inside. We need to talk.”
My childhood was bound to endless waiting. Every night, my mother sat silently, staring out toward the road, hoping for a familiar shadow to return. I once asked her:
— “Where did Dad go, Mom?”
She forced a sad smile and whispered:
— “He’s working far away…”
