EMERY
The clink of cutlery against plates is the only sound that fills the dining room. I keep my eyes downcast, concentrating on my food, not daring to look up and meet my parents' eyes. The silence between us is suffocating, and I can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
It's always like this when we're all together—a family dinner that feels more like an awkward business meeting. My parents are successful and accomplished in their respective careers, but their personal lives have become a mess. I watch them exchange fleeting, emotionless glances. It's as if they're strangers, sharing a meal out of obligation rather than love.
I wish I could put things right and bring back the joy and laughter that used to fill our home. But no matter how hard I try, I can't bridge the growing gap between them. It's been like this for years, and I've grown accustomed to the silence. Still, it never gets easier to watch my family disintegrate.
