Heather turned when he slammed his fist on the counter, and few things clattered around the room. She let a little huff of a sigh pass through her lips. "He had his reasons to be the way he was, too. If they didn't want you to follow in his footsteps, they should have explained it to you." But... maybe they didn't know either. "I can show you, how I know. I can show you, too, that he wasn't.. Just like you aren't..." They weren't evil. She didn't know his story. Didn't want to step into that hole, of knowing things before he told her either.
"Kylo. If what they did, bothers you, they mean something. I mean, hell, I was two when my Mother walked out on me and my Dad because she couldn't be a preacher's wife anymore. Couldn't be a Mom. Almost thirty years ago." Or technically it was over thirty years, but she was going with the years she'd experienced rather than the ones she'd missed. "But it still means something to me."