Demyan
"I understand Dad," I sniffed as I tried my best not to cry.
"Come here," he patted the space next to him and I was quick to stand up, sit next to him and give him a hug. He wrapped his strong protective arms around me then kissed the top of my head, "You don't have to understand anymore, Demyan. I want you to feel. You're allowed to be angry with me. You're allowed to be upset and cry.
Out of all of you, you never rebelled. You've always been so understanding, patient and responsible. You're not irresponsible because at eighteen you went all the way to Russia to live by yourself and tried to navigate in a country you barely knew. You travelled to France, New York, China and survived without having to call us every five minutes.
You started your company with the smallest loan I had ever given you and repaid it back in two months. The interests didn't even get a chance to start piling up."
