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Summary
"Dad, you need to get a life."
"I already have a life, Liv." Arthur replied indignantly, gesturing around them at their very real kitchen, in their very real house "I have you and your sisters."
She rolled her eyes with all the exasperation of a fifteen year old in full belief of their all-encompassing knowledge of the world.
"That is tragic. You are tragic. You can't be serious?"
As the conversation veered from mildly insulting to painfully near-the-knuckle, he'd felt self-indignation begin to rear its head.
"Excuse me, miss. I didn't think that's how we talked to each other in this house."
"Don't deflect." She shot back, hands on her hips. Not for the first time, Arthur wondered if all the therapy since Gwen’s death really had been a good idea. "It's been three years Dad, you need to get back out in the world." Her voice lowered, soft and gentle "meet someone maybe?"