I didn’t flinch when he said it. Perhaps I should have. Instead, I sat there quietly, letting the comment sink in, as if it was a part of the décor. It was a joke meant for the amusement of others, but it carried the weight of all the times I’d put myself last for him. All the times I had ensured his plate was full while I made do with whatever was left.

As the night went on, I found myself retreating into my thoughts, finding solace in the quiet corners of my mind where his words couldn’t reach. When I finally stood and left, I was as much a ghost as any of the shadows that clung to the edges of the dimly lit room. No one noticed my departure—not even my son.