“And you expected loyalty in return.”
He swallowed hard, his throat struggling with the effort.
“I tried… to protect you and set you up for the future.”
“Protect me?” I repeated softly. “You’re the reason I had to become what I am.”
I saw the realization in his eyes.
Too late.
Always too late.
The oxygen mask on his face shifted slightly with each breath he took.
Weak.
Dependent.
Temporary.
I reached out slowly… not to comfort him.
But to touch the mask.
My fingers rested against it for a second.
He noticed things were about to take a turn.
His eyes widened just slightly. “Vivi…” he rasped.
I looked at him.
Not as my father.
Not as the man who raised me.
But as the man who shaped everything I had to survive.
My voice was calm when I spoke.
“You don’t get to keep running from the grave.”
I pressed down on the mask, stopping his air.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No shaking hands.
No second thoughts.
His breathing turned ragged. Desperate.
His body tried to adjust, to fight, but there was nothing left in him to win with.
I watched.
