He stared at her daughter's eyes and felt his heart being torn apart from his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, for he couldn't think of any words to say.

She stared back at her father's eyes and felt a pang of pain in her chest. She could see the desperation and regrets in his eyes.

"It already happened. We can't do anything about it. But could you please, stop saying sorry, and expect that word to fix everything."

She put her hands down on her lap, under the table. She clasped them together to stop them from trembling. She eyed the dishes in front of her and the urge to pick up those dishes and hurled them on the wall was so overwhelming. To stop the urge to throw things, she buried her nails on her skin.

She winced with the pain and exhaled a deep breath. Her eyes were getting blurry because of the tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.

She looked up in an attempt to stop them from falling.

"My childhood trauma cannot be undone with sorry or...or food." she darted her eyes on the different dishes in front of them. "The pain that you caused me, hollowed out a space in my heart, and in that hollowed out space — you planted a seed of fear."

She inhaled shakily, trying to keep herself on the chair, her hands were clasped tightly together in her lap.

"Do you know what those fears have done to me?" Her voice trembled as she asked. She was slowly breaking down as pain gripped her. "Those fears made me scream! They woke me up in the middle of the night, screaming!"

Her hands that were tightly clasped together, broke apart. She watched her right hand slammed into the table, causing the glass of water to jump and fall to the floor.

Jess felt like she was splashed with cold water as she heard the glass break and hit the floor. She flinched from the sound of the shattered glass. She quickly stood from her chair.

"You have no idea how traumatized I was by your women who promised to love me as if I were their own daughter, then left me, simply because your relationship wasn't working out - that shit brought me trauma. It's difficult to trust because, in the end, all of you will just leave me alone."

She let out the tears that she had been trying to hold in. The tears ran freely down her cheeks, as she opened her mouth in a desperate attempt to breathe. She groaned out loud because her heart felt like it was being squeezed out of her ribcage.

"I have to pay a lot of money to those expensive therapists to help me sleep without waking up in the middle of the night, screaming, begging you not to leave!" She grabbed the pitcher of water with the intention of breaking it too, but her father beat her to it.

He pushed the pitcher away from her, took a step forward to reach her. She tried to step back but her father continued walking until she felt her back hit the island counter.

"Yes, Nugget. My apologies won't make you sleep well at night. But I am still going to say sorry because I meant it. And this time, I am not walking away nor I will let you walk away." his voice cracked when Jess's eyes glared at him.

But there was no anger in those eyes, only desperation, and pain. And he could see how she was ready to hit him just so she could run away from him.

He couldn't allow that to happen. Letting her leave six years ago to have her space was a mistake. He realized giving her space won't fix their problem, it would only drift them farther apart.

She is his daughter and he won't let her forget that. He pulled her into his arms for an embrace. And just like what he expected Jess tried to get away from him, hitting his shoulder, clawing his back. When he didn't let her go, she positioned her foot in between his.

He knew what she was trying to do. He taught her those moves.

"Jessica Joy, you may be a big girl now, fueled by your anger and disappointment with me, but you can't throw me down the floor. I was the one who taught you how to fight, remember?" He chuckled, kicking her foot, and stepping sideways, pulling her away from the island counter for knives can be found in the kitchen.

He grabbed her shoulder, bumped his head on her forehead, "Breath," he ordered.

She opened her mouth and breathed raggedly.

"Nugget, breath through your nose, not from your mouth." He watched her close her mouth and inhale a deep breath. "Good, now do it slowly...slowly — good job."

Jess slumped her shoulder as she tried to steady her breathing.

He chuckled. "Next time you visit your therapist, try to work out your temper."

Jess clicked her tongue and kicked her father's shin. "Annoying!"

"Would you like some coffee?"

She closed her eyes and heaved another breath, "Yes, please."

He hugged Jess back in his arms and this time she didn't resist. He knew that Jess's anger towards him wouldn't simply disappear.

Their relationship as father and daughter was like the broken glass on the floor. He could pick it up but he couldn't put it back together.

But he came here not to fix their broken relationship. He came here with the thought of creating a new relationship with his daughter. A better one. One where he would be a better listener, and not walk away whenever she threw a fit.

"Do you still like your coffee black?"

"Yes," she answered curtly, avoiding his eyes.

He stepped away from her to make coffee.

Jess walked into the living room with a slumped shoulder and sat on the couch. A tired feeling swept over her. She was like a balloon that suddenly lost all its air.

After a few minutes, Sebastian followed her to the living room, handed her a steaming cup of coffee, and asked, "Truce?"