Father-son talk

[Two years ago]

"Take these pills every four hours for the pain, Liam," said a slightly younger Mérida.

Touching the fresh wound on my face, I nodded sadly.

Silvia, my mother, hugged me from behind, touching my trembling hands filled with anger, frustration, and helplessness from the situation.

"Don't worry, son, everything will be okay. Let's go home; I have your favorite meal prepared for you" my mother said, trying to comfort me.

"Okay" I replied in a gloomy tone.

We were leaving when a voice interrupted our path.

"Wait for us at home, darling. I need to talk with Liam for a moment" my father interrupted.

"Alright, Abraham, but don't be too late; the food will get cold" my mother said sternly.

"Don't worry, we won't be long, Silvia."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As we walked, the situation with my father seemed increasingly strange.

My father was the police chief of Milwood, making him highly respected and loved by all the town's inhabitants.

This made his job seem perfect due to the social standing it provided.

But such ideas were only believed by kids my age.

Everyone knew the responsibilities that came with this challenging job.

Unlike my previous world, here the chief doesn't just sit doing paperwork in a comfortable office; it's quite the opposite.

When something big happens, he personally handles the investigation.

Although it's a peaceful town, we are located next to one of the province's most dangerous beast-filled forests.

Furthermore, a bit further east, across a mountain, is a river that directly connects to the Chen Empire, the country Lotus is currently at war with.

Coincidentally, this town is situated between these two dangers, so my father has had to deal with both beasts and eastern spies.

Although it hasn't expanded as much as in the country's capital, there have been reports that the criminal organization Nightfall has tried to expand to this remote town.

These struggles for dominance have brought many deaths, which my father has witnessed.

In fact, the previous police chief, my grandfather, was killed by a three-marked beast, so my father, who was the best officer at the time, had to take over.

That was 20 years ago when he was 25.

This job not only takes a toll on his mental health but also his time.

Sometimes he comes home very late or doesn't come at all, which I understand given the complexity of his job.

Normally, he has a dark and depressed look, but when he's with me and my mother, something changes within him, and his gaze relaxes.

That's why this situation seemed surreal to me.

"We've arrived, son."

Right now, we were in front of a building painted with light touches of pink and white emitting an irresistible aroma.

We were in front of the town's ice cream shop.

"Hello, sir. What can I offer you?" asked the ice cream vendor politely.

"What flavor do you want, Liam?" my father asked skeptically.

"Chocolate, please," I replied enthusiastically.

"Two chocolate, please."

"Right away, these are on the house, Mr. Abraham" said the ice cream vendor.

After having our ice creams, we headed to a nearby park and sat on a bench.

One minute passed, and neither of us spoke or ate our ice cream.

The cold treat was slowly melting, causing small droplets to fall to the ground due to the intense heat of the sun. Just as I was about to speak, he spoke first.

"Son, why?"

Confused by the sudden question, I answered:

"Why what?"

"Why are you putting your mother and me through this?"

I immediately stood up in indignation, dropping my ice cream on the ground.

"Are you seriously blaming me for what happened to me?! I'm the victim here, not you!" I exclaimed angrily.

My father furrowed his brow in frustration, and in his eyes, I could glimpse a feeling I couldn't fully recognize.

"Listen, son, I phrased that wrong, I'm sorry."

"No, Dad! How can you blame me for what happened to me?! Are you the one with an incurable scar on your cheek?!" I shouted angrily.

Abraham stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Don't you realize what could have happened if that attack had hit a vital area?! Instead of talking to you now, I could be crying at your funeral, Liam!" my father said, alarmed.

I didn't expect this kind of reaction from him since he had always been one of the most rational people I knew.

With small tears forming around his deep black eyes, he sat down and muttered words I could barely hear.

"I don't want to lose you like I lost my father."

Upon hearing that, I felt my heart lurch, and something in me wanted to comfort him.

As if I were truly a little kid, I hugged my father.

Unable to control my tears and with sobs, I said:

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't want to worry you like this."

My father didn't hold back either, and we both began to cry, embracing as father and son.

After that emotional moment, my father turned to me and made a promise: "Liam, if something like this happens to you again, for any reason, I won't visit you in the hospital. I can't bear seeing you in such a vulnerable state again, I swear on your late grandfather."

"Okay, Dad, I promise nothing like this will happen to me again" I said with conviction.

After that, we talked a bit more and got another ice cream since mine had fallen during the heat of the moment.

All in all, we had a good father-son day.

As we were heading home, I told my father:

"Someday, you have to tell me about Grandpa's story, Dad."

He gave a slight smile and replied:

"Someday, son, but not today. We have to hurry, or your mother will kill us."

That day I learned two things.

That I was more childish than I thought.

And that no matter if you're the coldest person in the world or the cruelest, your family will always be your weakness.