He threw my birthday present in my lap and said nothing. I opened all the others first, still deciding whether I should open his or just hand it back. I opened the card, a good start he'd written it at least; a short unfeeling message 'To Emma, Happy Birthday', then the bit that hurt 'John'. He always signed his cards 'Love Dad', but now he wasn't my dad, just John, and apparently he didn't love me either. I almost cried right then. Instead I just said thank you and closed the card again. 'You're welcome' he said back. It didn't sound like I was very welcome. If I hadn't promised Tina, I would've just left. I held the box in my hand, still d