Donald's expression softened, and he gently guided her to a nearby bench, guiding her to sit beside him.
"Ah, yes. That... that is a wound that has never truly healed," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
Sophia reached out, her hand resting atop his. "Would you... would you tell me more about it? I... I want to understand, Donald. To understand _you_."
Donald took a deep, steadying breath, and Sophia could see the weight of his past etched into the lines of his face.
"Growing up, I... I never felt like I truly belonged in the Parker family," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "My father, he... he always favored Jude, saw him as the true heir to the family legacy. And my mother, well, she was often too preoccupied with maintaining the family's social standing to pay much attention to me."
Sophia felt a pang of sympathy in her chest, her fingers tightening around his hand.
