Quiet Not Innocent | ✔︎

Chapter 44:

A S P E N  ♡  W I L S O N
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He has seven days left.

These past four days were him fretting over me being sick and with Dakota next door, they'd often team up to take care of me even though I was perfectly capable of doing that on my own.

I wasn't sure about anything going on inside his brain and what he was planning on doing, but I tried hard not to think about it. I just kept counting down, a heavy weight on my chest with each day the sun went down.

I wasn't exactly sure if I was anticipating or dreading him leaving but whatever it was, I was ignoring it.

I had other things on my mind, thousands of questions I know will never be answered, and the memories of my father were the most haunting.

I couldn't sleep properly at night because all the moments that I'd shared with my Dad had turned into this horrible thing where my mind would focus on anything that gave away the fact that he wasn't my biological dad. I'd be looking for tiny clues that I missed back then but really indicated the truth.

From everything to my talks with him alone, when Melissa and him would exchange these looks or sometimes get into these arguments that never made sense back then but do now, and even how Grandpa's behavior towards April and I correlated to my dad not actually being my dad.

It made me sick how things were making sense.

None of this should make sense. The fact that it does and that it's really the truth makes me hurt inside.

Grabbing another tissue, I use it to blow my nose obnoxiously. Then I proceed to throw it into the pile of other tissues. I was getting better from my cold, almost totally fine now, but I still managed to produce more snot when I was sad then I did when I was sick. It was kind of hilarious to me.

I scoot back on the floor carefully so I don't unwrap myself from my burrito blanket. Dakota got me a literal blanket with tortilla designs on it two weeks ago when he came and this was attempt at making me happier. It worked to a certain degree.

Once my back hits the bed, I lay my feet straight out and grab Dad's journal I got when I first came back home. I talked to the inheritance lawyer and practically begged him to give me everything Dad left behind for me now instead of when I turn eighteen and voila! I got a journal.

It was a dusty old thing that looked far too old but it was still holding up a decent fight and no pages were flying out of it or anything. I didn't open it despite getting it so long ago.

I was scared of what I'd find when I read it.

Inside this journal were all my father's thoughts and feelings on pages for me to see. I wasn't ready to hear him voice his actual feelings towards me since I wasn't actually his kid. Did he hate me?

I don't think so. I really want to think he didn't. But then again I was the product of the man who stole the love of his life and hurt him so bad. Why did he even bother raising April and I if he knew we were that fuckfaces' kids? Why would he?

I know I wouldn't. Hell if my spouse ever cheated on me I'd douse them in fire let alone raise their kids they had with the person they cheated on me with.