𝐴𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑| 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 ✔

LII

It was Tuesday and I had dropped Priscilla off at her grandmothers, just over an hour ago. I was waiting in anticipation for Roger to show up. If he even would. It was obvious, I had very little faith in him, but I had every reason, not to trust him.

I poured myself a cup of tea, trying to steady my nerves that were all over the place. I heard a car pull in, from outside. I let out a shaky breathe, slowly taking light steps over to the window, to see if it was Roger. My instinct was correct, there he was, getting out of his car, with his sunglasses on, his hair slightly tousled, with his thumb looping in the belt loops of his denim jeans, while his other hand spun his car keys around, as he sauntered over to the porch, to ring the doorbell.

I tried not to look or sound nervous, I took a deep breath, when I was standing at the front door, and slowly pushed down the handle and opened the door.

I saw his eyes roam me up and down, through his sunglasses, we stood there for an awkward moment, tapping my foot, nervously.

"Can I come in?" he asked, gently.
"Sure" I responded, opening the door wider, for him to enter, as I stood at the side, while he walked passed, examining the every detail of my house.

"You're house is lovely" he complimented, offering me a small smile, as he just stood there, waiting for an invitation to be seated.

"Thanks. You can sit down, if you'd like" I offered, returning his smile. "Do you want a tea? Or coffee?" I asked, intending to be a good host.

"Tea is fine, thanks" he answered, sitting down on the couch, with his ankle, resting on his thigh.

I went into the kitchen and poured the already boiling water into the tea cup, walking back out and handing it to him, as he thanked me in a sort of whisper.

A lot had changed about him. Well, not much, but there was a few noticeable differences about him, like his hair was more volumized and just an inch longer, he had a small stubble, and he looked slightly more mature than he did when I last saw him. I had changed a bit as well, I didn't have a fringe anymore, my hair was now normally seen in a half-up-half-down style, I wasn't as pasty anymore. Not that I was in anyway remotely tanned, but my skin looked more healthier.

We sat in silence, just sipping our tea, as my leg bounced up and down, nervously. He either forgot what I had told him, or simply didn't care, when he pulled out a cigarette from the pocket of his jeans, placing it at the side of in between his pink lips, lighting the small tobacco, I observed, fascinated, as he held it between his thumb and index finger, taking it out as the smoke coiled past his lips, forming a cloud figure in the air of the room, before it faded. When the cigarette was no longer usable, he dubbed the dead cigarette in the ashtray, that was on the table, beside him, as he turned his head, to face me.

"Why didn't you let me be apart of her life. I know she's only a couple of year's old, but there was still so much that I missed. I never told you I didn't want to be apart of her life, I told you I needed time to think about it. You dropped a bomb on me and fled. You didn't give me an address or even a number. You just packed up and left" he let out, breaking the silence. I listened to every word that left his mouth, realising I probably didn't handle the situation entirely mature. But I was 19, pregnant and my boyfriend and I were in an unhealthy, toxic relationship.

"You're right" I admitted, in a low voice, just lower that the octave of a whisper. "I should've gave you a chance to be in her life. I'm sorry" I apologized, looking down at my feet.

"What's her name?" he asked, after anothe moment of silence lingering in the air.

"Priscilla Rose Taylor" I smiled, as I announced her name.

He smirked, "Priscilla? As in Priscilla Presley?" he asked, full-knowing, a nod was the answer from me, with a timid smile.

He grinned, shaking his head at me, before a faded look of realisation made an appearance on his face. "You named her Taylor" he stated.

"Yes... Is that a problem?" I asked, nervously, he shook his head and smiled.

"Absolutely not. Thank you" he said, with a low, gentle voice.

"How long until she gets here?" he asked, looking out of the window, impatiently.

"20 minutes, maybe" I shrugged, taking a sip of my tea.

"What happened to your fringe, by the way? Your hairs different. It suits you" he noticed, offering me a smile.

"I just outgrew it. And thanks" I shrugged, a blush, glowing on my cheeks.

We sat in silence again, until the sound of my daughter squealing and calling 'mama!' echoed through the walls. Rogers whole face lit up at just the sound of her voice.

My mum came in the house and stopped dead in her tracks, when her eyes landed on Roger. "Alice. Come here for a second" she commanded. Priscilla looked up at Roger with big curious eyes and her mouth slightly gaped open.

"Hello" Roger smiled, crouching down to her level.

"Hi.." she said, shyly, looking down at her hands.

I smiled at their first meeting, before my mother coughed, reminding that she was still in our presence.

I sighed and walked out of the living room with her. "What is he doing here?!" she whisper-yelled.

"He's Priscillas father. He wanted to see her" I summarized, unable to find how this was her business.

"He left you. He's not fit to be a father" she crossed her arms in disapproval.

"How would you know?" I asked, folding my arms, as well.

"You'll regret it. I know you will." she promised, turning around and leaving.

I rolled my eyes and made my way back into the living room, seeing Priscilla exaggerating a story she was telling Roger. He raided his eyes to look at me with a smile plastered on his face.

Priscilla was already completely comfortable around Roger and it was clear that Roger had worked his charm. It was a nice image, seeing the two of them getting along so well already.