Chamroeun suddenly froze during a quiet moment, his small body stiff and eyes locked onto daddy’s face. Without warning, his brows tightened, lips pressed together, and a sharp anger flashed across his expression. Daddy paused, confused, lowering his hands and leaning closer. “Why?” his eyes seemed to ask, searching for a reason that wasn’t there.
Chamroeun stared, unblinking, breathing fast, as if something deep inside him had been poked awake. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe tiredness, maybe a feeling too big for words. He slapped the ground, let out a short, angry cry, and kept staring. Daddy didn’t laugh or scold. He stayed still, curiosity replacing surprise.
Slowly, daddy knelt to Chamroeun’s level, softening his face. The anger wavered, flickering between fear and frustration. Chamroeun’s stare finally broke, eyes dropping as his chest rose and fell. The anger wasn’t about daddy. It was about needing attention, reassurance, and safety.
Daddy opened his arms without a word. Chamroeun hesitated, then stepped forward, pressing into that familiar warmth. The tension melted, replaced by shaky breaths. Daddy held him, stroking his back, understanding without explanation.
Moments later, Chamroeun looked up again, calm restored. The angry stare was gone, replaced by trust. Daddy smiled, still a little curious, but grateful. He had seen how quickly feelings can rise, and how gently they must be met. Love didn’t ask questions first. It listened, stayed, and waited until the storm passed.
That lesson lingered long after the moment ended. For Chamroeun, being seen mattered more than being right. For daddy, patience became the answer. They sat together quietly, the world slowing down. Anger faded, curiosity softened, and connection grew. In that simple exchange, trust deepened, teaching them both that emotions are messages, not enemies, and love is how they are safely heard. Together, they breathed, okay.
