Trying To Heal

Chapter Seventeen

April

I fractured into euphoria that drips down my cheeks as pearls. Dad hesitates, assimilating a large, bittersweet clump in his bulky throat. He manages to scrape through the surreal haze, sit beside me, lug me into his chest. The lines of his religious cross prickles my sensitive skin, but I don't care. His sinewy arms squeezing me brings forth nostalgic sensations so powerful, my inner child shreds more. The tears are outrageously spilling and spilling, an endless cycle of waterfalls and oceans, soaking his shirt.

"I miss you," I sob. "I miss you so much."

Thank God he's here. Thank God.

Those recurring nightmares, the frights of another experience like Mike's death happening have simply left my body in a relieved exhalation. Because I know now.

He is here forever. He won't ever go back.

Dad lovingly kisses my forehead, embracing me excruciatingly tighter as if frightened this is a hallucination, a reverie. His hands rub my back as he endeavours to hold back his tears, but his strong, confident masculinity gives in, and his body slightly trembles in joy. I hear his half-sigh, half-sob of love, a wet tear mushing with several ones on my left cheek.

If someone does not know me and I tell them that this man is my father, they wouldn't believe it because of the different skin tones. It has happened quite a lot, sadly. Not to just me, but to my other siblings, too. We all have Mum's brown colour. Regardless of that, I was always told that I am incredibly lucky to have an excellent gentleman as a father.

"How—" I hiccupped and untangled my arms from his neck. "How are you even here?"

He wipes my eyes, glancing at Marlene. She replies, "This is all Derek's doing. I do not know how he has done it, but he must have convinced his friends to let your father be, well, a father for as long as he wishes. Physically, now."

"I have been trying to resign for years," explains Dad. "They didn't want me to leave." He smirks confidently. "I'm just too good to go." Under different circumstances, I would have rolled my eyes, but his familiar humour makes me laugh. "I don't know what Derek did, but it worked. Last week I got a call that I could leave. The next day I was escorted to the airport and flew back to England on a private jet that was heavily secured." He added the last part in a baffled tone. "And here I am."

I glance at Marlene, reading her expression. She is just as confused as Dad, which is definitely a strange thing to experience. That is not how you usually perceive the wealthiest woman in the world to be like. Yet, her icy-blue irises are fiery of pride, and I know why. Her nephew stepped up.

He was always a man, but now he is finally confirming that.

"Let's go home," says Dad.

***

"I think grandpa's here!" exclaims a soothing voice. Kaison Levesque sprints out of the kitchen, his grin amplifying. "Momma, grandma, grandpa's here!" He trots to a pause as Dad steps away from me. Kaison's eyes enlarged. "Aunty!"

He breaks into an exhilarated sprint. I buckle to my knees just in time to get toppled backwards, guffawing loudly and tightly embracing him. "I miss you," he whimpers. "I miss you I miss you I miss you Oh my God are you okay Are you hungry—"

"Careful," warns Dad. "She's still healing."

Kaison gasps and yanks out of my grasp, alarmed. "Sorry, sorry—"

"I'm okay."

He blinks at me, dropping his gaze to my bandaged scars, then to the bandage on my temple, absorbing how pale I must look. "You are going to look better now that I'm here."