Elias collapsed onto a dusty crate, the letter shaking in his hand. He remembered that final fight—the shouting, the door slamming, the vow never to return. He had spent ten years hating a man who had been secretly cheering for him from the shadows.
The realization hit him like a physical blow: his father hadn't been indifferent; he had been imprisoned by his own inability to speak. They had both been waiting for the other to blink, for the other to bridge the gap. And now, time had simply run out.
A New Beginning
As the sun began to set, casting long, golden fingers through the attic window, Elias held the pressed flower to his chest. The house was still quiet, but the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt like a long-held breath finally being released.
He couldn't get the years back, but he finally had the truth. Love doesn't always roar; sometimes, it's just a quiet letter in an attic, waiting for the right moment to heal a broken heart.