His Story

Sitting on the Veranda with Marcus, our drinks in hand, we engaged in a heartfelt conversation about our lives. Despite my deep-seated animosity towards him, there was an undeniable sense of solace in his presence. Tonight was different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it was the influence of alcohol, or maybe it was the way he gazed at me with such tenderness in his eyes.

Breaking the silence, Marcus uttered, "You know, I've never believed in having a happy family before."

I chuckled, taking a sip of my wine. "Well, we can't deny that you're a good father to Marco."

As I savored my drink, Marcus poured his heart out to me. He had always been reserved, but tonight, he seemed more open and vulnerable. It was evident that he needed to unburden himself.

With every word he spoke, I could sense the anguish and sorrow in his voice. He shared his painful childhood, recounting how he had never truly experienced happiness.

"I've just never felt like I had a happy family," Marcus con