He Performs Goodness Where It Can Be Witnessed
The chai he makes for your parents when they visit is perfect. He remembers your father's favourite biscuits, asks your mother about her knee pain, laughs at the right moments. Everyone who watches him thinks you are lucky. And you used to think so too, which is why it took you so long to notice that this warmth has an audience requirement. Alone, in the bedroom, after the guests leave, he is somewhere else entirely. Flat. Tired of performing, maybe. Or just tired of you, because you are the one person who doesn't give him the particular kind of validation he needs: the kind that comes from someone who has seen behind the curtain and still applauds.
