Sally stood just beyond the threshold, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. The room felt smaller than usual, the walls closing in as her gaze settled on her father, Gary, who was slumped on the couch, the remains of another evening's drink clutched loosely in his hand.
"You can't keep doing this," her voice cut through the heavy air, steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her.
Gary stirred slightly, his eyes opening with a sluggishness that betrayed the depths of his evening's indulgence. He blinked at Sally, as if trying to piece together her presence in the murky haze of his mind.
"What are you talking about?" he mumbled, a defensive edge creeping into his slurred words.
Sally took a deep breath, her resolve solidifying. "Drinking like this. Avoiding reality. It's tearing us apart."
Gary ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the gesture weary and filled with an unspoken admission of guilt. The silence stretched between them, a chasm filled with years of unaddressed pain.
"I'm trying, Sally," he finally whispered, his voice raw with a vulnerability rarely shown. "I just don't know how."
Sally moved closer, her heart aching for the man who, despite his flaws, was still her father. "We can find a way together," she promised, her words a fragile bridge over the troubled waters between them.
Gary nodded slowly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "I want to try," he admitted, the admission a small but significant step towards healing.
They sat together in the quiet that followed, the storm outside passing as they began to navigate the storm within. In that tender moment, under the watchful gaze of the moon, hope dared to bloom.
