"No, I'd rather spend my last minutes with you. I may not have strength to tell you more. All I want to say now is, I love you, and that I am proud that you are my daughter.
Can you do me one favor?"
She stroked his head gently. "Anything, Father."
He smiled. "You've already said it."
She leaned over and kissed the deformed side of his face.
"I love you, Father," she said softly.
Whether she could accept him, had troubled her all her life. With the kiss, she felt strangely relieved and at peace. She thought perhaps it was because she had shown she had not rejected him.
In trying to turn his face away, to spare her the kiss, he died.