Pity and superiority
It was an interesting look into my father’s life, something that needed exploring. My brother, Michael, gave me a pitying smile, shaking his head. “Dad must have loved us more, huh, Arthur?” he said, followed by a chuckle. The others joined in, sharing glances that communicated a strange blend of pity and superiority. But I didn’t feel slighted. I trusted my father’s reasons, however mysterious.
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