****As Richard pushed open the heavy wooden door, weary from the demands of the day, the warm embrace of home welcomed him. The living room, bathed in the soft glow of evening sunlight, seemed to exhale a sigh of peace. Yet, a scene of unexpected familiarity unfolded before him: his father, Roberto, occupying his favorite armchair, a book resting lazily in his hands.Their gazes met, a silent understanding passed between them was the unspoken bond of father and son. Richard's voice, tinged with a hint of exhaustion but laced with affection, sliced through the quietude. "Hello, dad. Where's mom?" he inquired, his footsteps closing the distance between them.Roberto's eyes crinkled at the edges, the telltale sign of a smile that had seen both joy and sorrow. With a gentle chuckle, he responded, "Hello, Richard. How was work today?" The words, casual yet laden with genuine interest, danced between them like old friends catching up after a long separation. But there was something more, i
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