Behind the Family: Regretful Father and Love

Early in the morning, my mother and I were woken up by a knock on the door.

I yawned and went to open the door. When I saw the person standing outside the door, I was stunned.

My father, Yoel, was sitting in a wheelchair, looking at me in surprise. He said in a cheerful tone, "Xavier, I miss you!"

He was old and his face was full of wrinkles. Only his narrow and long eyes still revealed the same scheming and ruthlessness as before.

I felt nauseous.

He and my mother had divorced for 15 years. During these 15 years, he had not given me a penny, nor come to see me once, as if he were dead.