After Picking up a Runaway Girl From the Same University on My Way Home From Work, We Started Living Together in Secret - Chapter 32

“Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

Even after Minato left the hospital room, leaving just me and Dad, we sat in silence, facing each other.

I said I had something to talk about, but I had no idea how to start.
Maybe Dad felt the same way.

If I had been able to talk easily, even after all these years of strained relations while pretending to maintain the facade of a family, things wouldn’t have come to this.

“…I got hit by a car that ran a red light. Broke my right leg. Two months to recover, they say.”

Dad broke the heavy silence by telling me about his injury.

Luckily, it wasn’t life-threatening.

But it didn’t change the fact that he’d been in an accident. If his luck had been worse, he might not have survived.

“They’re worried about other complications from the accident, so I’ll be staying in the hospital for a few days. It’ll disrupt my work, but there’s no helping it. I’ll have to catch up later.”

Dad spoke calmly, deliberately, as if trying to reassure me.

“…Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“How do I look okay? Damn it, I’ll hire a lawyer and make sure they pay proper compensation.”

He muttered in frustration, and the conversation stalled again.

No, maybe what we had wasn’t even a conversation in the first place.

It was just a one-sided exchange of information, both of us saying what we wanted.

But that’s not what I wanted. What I wanted was—

“…Seems neither of us is cut out for real dialogue. Whenever I talk to you, I end up sounding more hostile than necessary. A bad habit… truly.”

His words, spoken in his usual tone, didn’t sound like they came from Dad.

They were arrogant but carried a faint trace of apology.

“My wife often said the same thing. I’m clumsy. To say what I want to, I end up using unnecessary preambles and embellishments.”

“…Is that an excuse?”

“…You can take it that way if you like. The words I should have said that day weren’t shouts of anger. What we needed was time to accept reality and mourn.”

Maybe this was Dad’s way of expressing regret.

I could never forget.

The day I lost Mom right in front of me.

Dad arrived late, his face twisted in grief.

And that’s when our family broke apart.

Like shattered dishes, there was no way to piece us back together.

“No, there’s something else I need to say. …I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, Dad bowed his head and apologized.

…What?

Dad… apologized to me?

That stubborn man who never listened, who only denied and criticized?

Caught off guard, I stared at him in disbelief.

“I understand if you think it’s too late for this. What’s lost and trust once broken can’t be recovered. You probably can’t believe this apology either. But still, I had to say it.”

I had avoided dealing with Dad until now.

I’d given up, figuring all I’d get were denials and harsh words.

That’s why I left home after a fight and ended up being taken in by Minato.

“I always knew, deep down. I knew I was avoiding the reality of your mother’s absence and blaming you instead. It’s pathetic, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d left all your care to your mother.”

“…Now that you mention it, that’s true.”

Even before Mom passed, Dad had always been busy with work.

There were days he didn’t come home at all, and weekdays often went by without me seeing him.

He worked to support our family.

Thanks to that, we never struggled financially.

“But… you were always home for my birthday, to celebrate.”

That’s right.

Dad made sure to be there for me on my birthday.

It’s one of my most cherished memories.

“…As a father, I wanted to at least be there for that one day. That’s all.”

“I was happy. Birthdays were when the whole family got together.”

“…But those days will never come again.”

Dad spoke in a defeated tone.

Birthdays spent as a family of three would never return.

I had come to terms with it, but Dad hadn’t.

Losing someone you loved enough to marry—maybe it’s only natural to feel that way.

I couldn’t fully understand that feeling yet.

But if I lost Minato, who’s now the closest person to me…

Just imagining it made my head spin.

“…Let’s get back to the point. I’ve done terrible things to you, and I don’t expect forgiveness. But I want a chance to rebuild our relationship as a family. …If you’re still willing to consider me your father—”

“…Dad, you really are clumsy.”

I gently took Dad’s hand.

Rough, thick, hard, a little dry, but warm.

“You’ve said a lot of awful things to me, and I’m still angry about them. I haven’t completely forgiven you. But you’re still my Dad. And that hasn’t changed.”

“…Can you really forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that. But I don’t hate you. Despite everything, I haven’t forgotten the gratitude I owe you for raising me.”

A child can’t survive in today’s society alone—financially or otherwise.

Even if it’s a parent’s responsibility, taking it for granted is arrogant.

Maybe I understood this because I’d experienced how hard it is to earn money myself.

“Looks like you’ve grown up while I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m twenty now. Old enough to drink, though I haven’t yet.”

“We’ll have to prepare for your coming-of-age ceremony. …I wish your mother could see you in your formal attire.”

Dad’s eyes filled with tears, which spilled down his cheeks.

At last, I had a proper conversation with Dad.

“Oh, that reminds me. There’s something I’ve been meaning to say for years. …Happy birthday, Risa.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

His words were a belated birthday wish.

Hearing those words, after so many years, made me feel like our family bond had been restored.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“If we can get along, that’s enough.”

“…That’s a modest request. I should be asking you for the same.”

Dad let out a small laugh.

He used to have that kind of expression too.

“I didn’t expect you to visit me in the hospital. Maybe this injury was a blessing in disguise. If losing one leg brought back my family, it’s a small price to pay.”

“Then you’ll have to thank Minato too.”

“…Minato? Is he the young man who was with you?”

“Yes. Should I call him in?”

At the mention of Minato, Dad’s expression hardened.

He fell silent, his face shifting through a range of emotions as he thought.

“…Call him in. I’d like to talk to him. It seems I owe him for taking care of you.”

“Got it.”

Actually, Risa is twenty, making her older than Minato…