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Chapter 14

My heart's seen things I wish it didn't
Somewhere I lost some of my innocence
And I miss it
I miss itStay up all night thinking it's twisted
My life's been survival of the fittest
But I did it
I did it

– Lennon Stella, Older Than I Am

. . . . 

"What are you doing here?" my dad asks me, completely astonished at my presence right now, and the feeling being one hundred percent mutual right now. 

Completely dumbfounded, I respond, confusion intermingled with excitement coats each word that leaves my mouth, "I'm on a class trip. I can't even believe you're here right now. This is incredible."

"I know. You're so grown up and beautiful. You got that from your mum, you know."

I shift awkwardly from my left foot to my right at the mention of my late mum, especially coming from my dad. He doesn't seem to notice the uncomfortable topic, and I'm glad he changes the subject when he does.

"I'd love to stay in contact with you. Uh..."  He digs his hand into the deep pockets of his thick coat and pulls out a card. "Maybe we can talk everything through. I have to be at a meeting in twenty minutes, but I really want to get the chance to have a real conversation with you without all of these people around us."

"Okay. Maybe you can come over to the hotel we're staying at so we can talk," I suggest, hoping and praying he will agree. I really want to just have a conversation with him to catch up on everything we missed out on in each others' lives.

"Okay. Yeah, I can do that. What time would be good for you?" he questions, shaking his soaked umbrella out onto the black carpet mat we're standing on.

"Maybe seven o'clock? We're having this pizza and swimming party, but I can miss it."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to miss out on your party."

"Believe me, if I can get out of that, I'd be more than happy."

"Okay. Just text me the address of your hotel and we can talk."

"Okay. I have to go with my group, but I guess I'll see you at seven tonight."

"I'll see you then," he pulls me into a hug and kisses the side of my head. "I love you, Violet."

He smiles once again, pulling back, and turns on his heel to push his way through the mass of people by the doors, escaping through the set of doors.

I walk back to the group waiting by the bottom exit with the biggest smile on my face. I haven't felt this great since mum and dad were still together. Out of the millions and millions of people in New York City, how was my father here? It seems pretty surreal to actually have had him standing right in front of me this very day. I still don't understand it and I probably never will. No one, not even Harry can take this happiness away from me. I won't let him.

. . . .

While I'm waiting out by the lobby for my dad, I count down every second until the hour hand hits that seven with the other on the twelve. It's now 6:58, and I'm freaking out about whether he's still going to come to talk to me. Multiple people have come out to ask me why I'm not at the party and I'd just tell them I'm waiting for someone important. Every time I'd hear the slightest sound of the automatic doors opening and closing, my head would shoot over in that direction, but I'd always be disappointed by someone who's not my father walking in.

I wait a few more minutes until the doors slide open and my eyes lock with my dad's. He sends a smile towards me and walks over to the small table I'm seated at. Removing his jacket and sliding it over the back of his chair, he sits down on the wooden piece of furniture.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. There was an accident and traffic was backed up even more than usual. I even left half an hour ago. Anyway, how are you?" 

"I'm doing okay. How are you?" I shrug my right shoulder.

"I'm sitting in front of you right now so I'm doing great." He smiles.

My father was always a comforting and welcoming person. I don't know why mum ever left him and decided to marry my step-dad. My dad was so good for her and all that was shared for each other was love, trust, and faithfulness. They loved each other so much and we were a happy family until one day when my mother up and left with me at her side. Later, my father got a job offer here in New York City and my mum got so pissed and refused to leave her hometown. He was promised a higher paying job and also a better house than the tiny, two-bedroom flat we were living in. He made the mistake of ignoring my mum and wanting to leave anyways.

I remember pressing my ear to the door of my bedroom at nine o'clock at night when I was supposed to be sleeping, just listening to them arguing about who was right and who was wrong. Finally one night, the fighting came to a stop when my dad kissed me on the cheek, told me he loved me and he'd write me every single day, then picked up his suitcases and walked out the door after glancing at his ex-girlfriend with small tears in his eyes.

To this day, I still don't understand the full story behind everything that happened to my parents.

"Why'd you leave?" I ask softly whilst picking at the fabric of the chair I'm sitting on.

"I'd rather not discuss that right now, Vi."

"No, dad. I want to know. I'm almost eighteen, and I need to know this stuff. Please tell me," I plead with hopeful thoughts that he might tell me exactly why my parents separated and why he left me to come here.

"I was hoping that you and your mum would have come over here with me, but she wanted to stay in a place that was familiar to her. She was never good with being in foreign places. Anyway, every night we stayed up arguing about me going and her not wanting to. Eventually, we gave up trying and she stayed back with you. I wouldn't have let that happen if I would have known that I would lose her nine years later–to a jackass and death." He pushes a tear away with the heel of his hand and smiles sorrowfully at me. I bite my trembling bottom lip to keep myself from crying as well.

"It's okay."

"Anyway, I was hoping to talk to you about something," he sniffles.

"Okay."

"Well, you remember Bonnie, right?" he questions.

I nod. Bonnie's his wife that he married a year after he and my mum broke up, but somehow he moved on, and I guess he's happy with her since he just brought her up. She was nice to me, but I don't know. It was kind of just natural to hate her. I mean, wouldn't you hate the woman that is now supposed to be the replacement of your mother?

"We've been discussing moving back to England so we can be closer to you, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with us."

. . . . .

I hope you're having a good day! 

– Re-uploaded on February 1, 2021