The Father

The small bulb hanging beneath the ceiling was the only source of light, barely illuminating a round table. It obscured the darkness within the corners of the dining room. The night was mourning by a man, seating on one of the chairs. Pathetic sobs and soft hiccups seemed a shallow whisper commingling the night breeze.

"Dad?" a tiny voice called from behind.

The man jolted up from a sudden presence. Yet, it was just a child wearing a stripe pajama, rubbing his eyes to whatever particles blocking his complete vision.

Making up a better composure, he wiped his tears gently, afraid of what might be noticed other than his swollen eyes.

"Hey, buddy," he greeted, forcing smile, "What keep you up tonight?"

His son walked towards him and seated on his lap.

"Nothing, I just thought I heard you crying again, were you?" he asked. His big blue eyes round and clear.

"Maybe," he replied, bobbling his eyebrows.

"Is that because of mom?"

"You could say that," he said unable to hide the details behind the searing eyes.

"I'm sorry dad I wish I could help you."

"It was my fault not yours, don't be sorry. I should've been protecting you and your mother. But all I can do is to cry here every night," he apologized. Big droplets of warm tears, once again, escaped his eyes.

"You already did, Dad" his son replied and was beginning to pat his back. "You were so brave back there, and I wouldn't let you down."

"Jacob?" a voice c

"Mom?"

"What are you doing there? Are you talking to someone?" her voice uttered with alarm and panicked as she went to him.

"No mom."
"Go back to your room then," she beckoned upstairs.

David ran upstairs without a word.
She stared to an empty dining room for a moment before leaving. With a final glace, as she was about to step her foot on the tread, she felt the cold wind brushed off into her skin. In a faint voice it seemed to whisper 'I love you' and she didn't only hear it but feel it rather.