Reconciliation Over Meat

Star watched from her seat as her father stepped out of the cab, his expression stiff and unreadable. Her hands trembled beneath the table.

"Please, God... control Dad and me. Let his uncertainty turn into certainty," she whispered to herself, heart hammering in her chest.

Tomas approached slowly, his eyes locking with Star's. But it wasn't anger in them. It was emotion—raw and defeated. The moment he saw her genuine smile, something in him cracked.

Star stood to hug him. Tomas froze.

His mind reeled with guilt—how many times had he called her a bastard, rejected her, pushed her away? The shame anchored his arms to his sides.

"Welcome, Dad," Star said softly.

Tomas couldn't speak. His eyes welled with tears. Star, instinctively, reached out to wipe them.

But he stopped her.

"Wiping my tears will only make me more miserable," he said, voice breaking.

Star recoiled slightly, misinterpreting his words.

He hasn't changed... he still thinks I'm a burden.

She remained quiet, heart sinking.

Tomas took a breath, wiped his own face, and forced himself back to the moment.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I was too lost in my own mess."

"It's okay," Star replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Thank you... for showing up anyway."

"How are you, my child?"

"I'm fine... just missing your shoutings," she teased, testing the waters.

Tomas chuckled, unexpectedly. "Yeah... I miss you too. Especially how you used to jump in between your mother and me during our fights."

That hit her—deep. The forgotten memories of being the small peacekeeper between screaming adults came flooding back. She smiled faintly, pain dancing behind her eyes.

Tomas signaled to the waiter. "Just bring us any meat available."

Star glanced up in surprise. It reminded her of something—an old celebration, two years ago. Back then, meat symbolized more than food. It was a sign he felt whole again.

"Today I'm happy. My instinct agrees with me. Eating meat means I'm finally in sync with myself," he had once declared.

Now, here he was, ordering meat again.

"I know what you might be thinking," Tomas continued, looking down. "That I've come to take revenge or to make you feel guilty. But I haven't. I'm here to say… I accept you, Star. As my daughter. Again. I was cruel to you, and that's why I ended up like this."

"What do you mean... 'like this'?" Star asked, concerned.

"I live with Frieda now. It's hell, Star. The same way I used to treat you and Louisa… she treats me now."

Star's face darkened.

"She treats me like a servant. I didn't even tell her I was coming here—she wouldn't allow it. I go hungry at work. Look at me—my clothes are torn, dirty... she doesn't care. The twins? They don't even speak to me."

Tomas reached across the table and held Star's hand, desperate.

"I'm sorry, Star. You were always right. And I swear, I'll never point a gun at you again."

Tears rolled down his cheeks. Star looked at Leila, who was seated nearby and visibly emotional. Leila nodded encouragingly.

The waiter arrived with their food but paused, sensing the gravity of the moment. He stood silently, unsure.

Star gently withdrew her hand from Tomas'. His heart sank—was she still angry?

But then she reached out again... and wiped his tears with her fingers.

Tomas felt the softness of her touch. For a moment, he was taken back—back to the day a 12-month-old Star called him papa for the first time.

"It's okay, Dad," Star said softly. "I should be the one apologizing. I ruined your relationship with Mom, even if it wasn't perfect. We still made memories. Don't worry… we'll be fine."

Tomas shook his head, regret heavy in his voice.

"It's too late. I just wish I could go back in time. I wouldn't have sold the house. I thought Frieda was perfect for me, even after all the warnings. But... some things aren't meant to be, right?"

Star smiled. "And since when do you believe in God?"

Tomas chuckled. "Since a seer told me I'd suffer misfortune if I didn't make things right with you. I didn't believe him… but look at me now."

"You don't have to wish anymore, Dad. Your chance is here. You confessed… God forgave you. So start again."

She turned to the waiter, "I'm sorry we kept you waiting."

"It's alright, ma'am. Here's your order."

Star took a piece of meat and gently fed it to Tomas. Leila smiled and took a photo, her eyes gleaming with tears. Tomas, overwhelmed, picked a piece and fed Star in return.

"So… I heard you live with the Davids family now?" Tomas asked.

"Yes, I do," Star replied.

"Are you happy there?"

"I am. Mendu takes good care of me—"

"Who's Mendu?" Tomas cut in, raising a brow.

Star froze. She had slipped.

"Is he... the father?" Tomas asked cautiously.

"No! No, Dad. Mendu is just… one of the Davids. I meant to say they all take good care of me," Star said quickly.

Tomas smiled, calm. "I won't get angry, Star. We agreed to let go of the past, remember? So… please. Who's the father?"

"Dad, I'm not ready to say it yet. I don't want to wake the old Mr. Tomas," Star said with a half-smile.

"Alright," Tomas said with a shrug. "But I'll meet this 'Mendu' one day."

Star laughed and sent Leila a text. Moments later, Leila came over.

"Leila, you're here too," Tomas greeted her warmly.

"Yes. I called her," Star said. "And now that we've eaten, I want to take you to meet my new family."

"Really?" Leila said, beaming. "I'd love that."

"Yeah," Tomas said, standing. "I want to see where my daughter lives now."

They all stood together—something whole again, something quietly mended—and walked out of the restaurant, side by side.