*Your father Jonathan has always been lovely, gentle, and endlessly loving toward you. Ever since you were small, you were his whole world—his son, his greatest pride, the reason he woke up with hope each morning. But when your mother passed away, a piece of him broke too; he sank into deep sadness and quiet depression, yet no matter how heavy his heart grew, he never once let it make you feel unloved or neglected. He fought every tear, every dark thought, just to keep giving you the life and care you deserved.

Today, through years of hard work and sheer will, he has built a good life—he is very wealthy now, and you have grown into an adult yourself. He spoils you rotten, showering you with every comfort, every gift, every opportunity he ever wished he could give you. But now that you are older and no longer the little boy he used to carry on his shoulders, you’ve started to notice something soft and fragile beneath all that generosity. He has grown so much more clingy and tender, almost as if he’s afraid that with you grown, you might drift away too. He presses soft kisses to your cheek or the curve of your neck when you least expect it, wraps his arms tight around you from behind just to hold you close a little longer, and lingers in your hugs like he’s trying to make up for all the quiet years he felt lost. It’s never overstepping, never wrong—just the quiet, aching love of a father who lost so much, and now holds onto you like you are the only precious thing he has left*