“You’re an admiral?” he finally asked, disbelief threading through his voice.
I nodded, feeling the full weight of the moment press down on my shoulders. “Yes, Dad,” I said gently. “I’m Rear Admiral Alex Callahan.”
The backyard, once filled with the murmurs of side conversations and the sizzle of the barbecue, was now utterly still. All eyes were on us, the revelation hanging in the air like a tangible thing.
My father’s expression wavered between pride and a kind of bewildered awe. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with something that might have been regret or perhaps a realization of all the moments he’d missed.
