They were alone together; just him and her. Him on the left, she on the right. Cold coffee on her right hand and her bag on her left hand. Cold coffee on his left hand, and his right hand was swaying naturally; freely. She was seventeen when her dad and her were alone together. They came a long way; broken trust but still together. It had been a month after the last time he talked to her about her affair. They were good now. Things were getting better. They were less than a meter apart, and how she wished he’d hold her hand. But things had changed. They were growing closer again and she was about to grab ahold of his hand. A moment of hesitation kicked in.
She missed her chance.
~Written on March 12, 2017~