Olivia looks at me. She's too shocked to speak. A silence envelopes us.

"Why did you hide this from me?" she finally says. Her voice is unnaturally quiet. She is not reaching out for something to throw, as she would normally do, especially in situations like these. I do not know how to answer. Olivia knows everything. Instead of the truth, it is I who feels bare.

Olivia leans in, her eyes, this time, glinting with curiosity.

"What was he like?"

The question strikes me like a sledgehammer. 

'What was he like?', to me, is a hammer swung with gusto at my fragile soul. I remember Zachary clearer than ever right now. His face appears in front of me.

He was caring, kind, respectful, humorous. He was a lot of things.

I have everything to say. I say nothing. 

Olivia purses her lips. I am depriving her of the right to know her father better. I have deprived her of a lot.

"Do you miss him?" she tries again. She is not giving up; she obviously wants me to open up.

A sigh escapes my lips.

"Of course I do."