Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Thanks for coming" I stop thinking for a few seconds if hugging him, despite the fever, might be a good idea, but in the end I hold back. I am not a child, but this certainly doesn't mean that sometimes I do not have the physical and emotional need to receive a hug from my dad or my mom.
"How are you two?"
"We only have a fever, but otherwise nothing"
"Is Andy okay? The temperature is not high, is it?"
"No, it isn't. We've already called Allie and there's no need to worry"
"Your mom always took paracetamol in case of fever during pregnancy"
"He has already taken it"
"Good"
"Okay... um... I just finished dressing her and I also changed her diaper. This is her bag with all her things, there is also her blanket in case she is sleepy or falls asleep. If you need something, please call us" he smiles sweetly, taking the bag and the blanket that I folded and put in a separate bag.
"I'm sorry for saying those things" if the desire to hug him was strong before, now it's skyrocketing. "I was tired and I had come to know about this thing at the worst moment, I didn't know how to react and I blamed you when... when the fault is just of this wonderful society" he says the last part ironically, almost laughing at his own. words. "I was afraid of having a gay son for what could have happened to him, but now I don't have a gay son, I have two and I am proud of the fact that their heads always remain high and never pointing down"
"I love you dad" maybe it's me who has mellowed over the years, maybe it's the fever that makes me weak or super emotional, but whatever it is, the tears in my eyes allow me even more to see the pride and the love in my dad's eyes.
"Me too son" the light in his eyes right now is something absolutely spectacular.
"Um...uncle has... he has... he won't come to the wedding" a frowning expression on his face and the confusion quickly takes the place of those pleasant emotions that until recently were the only thing I saw.
"What did he tell you?"
"Not what I expected, although I should definitely have expected it"
"What did he tell you?" he asks, most likely seeing more in my eyes than I dare to say.
"Here, read" I take the letter from the drawer of the furniture, giving it to him immediately after.
His eyes move quickly on every single word and even faster everything that was there is completely put aside. Anger is all my eyes can see in that mass of words and emotions.
"He's a jerk, you don't have to listen to him"
"I thought by now he understood that there is nothing wrong with me, the two of us, my family"
