Uncovered Secret: The Sequel - Taylor Swift Fanfiction

Chapter 19: Closure

Author's note: Again I didn't plan on ending it so early but it feels very wholesome to do it now. I'll do more stories like this, I promise :)

Bridget's POV

Sitting alone in the secluded corner of the park, away from prying eyes, I felt a knot of nervousness in my stomach. This was a moment I had both anticipated and dreaded. As I saw Joe approaching, my biological father, my heart raced with a mix of emotions.

"Thanks for agreeing to see me," Joe said as he sat down, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and regret.

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. "Mom and dad know I'm here, but it was my choice to do this," I said, making it clear this was my decision, independent of my family's influence. I realized I just called Travis my dad in front of Joe. But I didn't care. Joe lost his 'dad' card a long time ago.

Joe nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Bridget, I... I want to say how sorry I am," he began, his eyes meeting mine. "For not being there for you, for all the missed moments, the birthdays, the milestones. I was wrong, I let my ego get the best of me, and I regret it deeply."

His words hung in the air between us. This was what I had longed to hear for years, yet now that the moment was here, it felt overwhelming. I wrestled with a mix of anger, hurt, and a faint glimmer of hope. Could I forgive him? Did I want to?

"Why now, Joe?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back into my life after all this time?"

Joe sighed, a look of genuine remorse crossing his face. "I've realized the magnitude of my mistakes, how much I've lost by not being in your life. I don't expect you to forgive me, not right away. But I'm asking for a chance to make it right, to be a part of your life, even if it's just as a supportive friend."

His plea hung heavily in the air. Part of me wanted to yell, to unleash the years of pent-up frustration and hurt. But another part, a quieter, more reflective part, wondered if this was a chance for closure, for healing. The healing I've been secretly longing for all these years.

"I... I don't know what to say, Joe," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "This is a lot to take in. I'm not sure if I can forgive you, or if I even should. But I'm willing to listen, to hear you out. That's all I can offer right now."

Joe's face softened, a hint of relief passing through his eyes. "That's more than I could have hoped for, Bridget. Thank you."

We sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the park around us. This meeting wasn't a resolution, but perhaps it was a start, a small step towards understanding and, maybe one day, forgiveness.

"How's..." Joe broke the silence. "How is your life going?"

Joe's question about my life opened a floodgate of updates. I found myself talking about James, detailing how Travis had grilled him at first but eventually warmed up to him. I couldn't help but smile as I described Lena, my spirited little sister, who brought so much joy and chaos into our lives.

As I spoke, Joe listened intently, nodding and smiling at the right moments. It felt surreal, sharing bits of my life with a man who was a stranger in so many ways, yet so fundamentally connected to me.

Then Joe shared his news. "Emma, my wife, is pregnant. We're expecting our first child together, a girl." His eyes held a mix of pride and nervous excitement.

A jolt of surprise hit me. A half-sister. The news was unexpected, and it stirred a complex mix of emotions within me.

"Is that why you're here now? Because you're starting a new family and it made you think about the one you left behind?" My question was direct, maybe a bit harsh, but it needed to be asked.

Joe sighed, a troubled look crossing his face. "It definitely made me think, Bridget. Seeing Emma pregnant, and thinking about this new responsibility... it made me realize all the mistakes I've made with you. I can't change the past, but I don't want to repeat those mistakes with my new daughter."

His words hung heavily between us. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, but it was hard to fully accept his reasons. Was this new baby the catalyst for his sudden interest in reconciling? Or had he genuinely come to terms with his past failures?

I was unsure how to feel. Part of me was happy for him, happy that he was getting a chance to be the father he never was to me. But another part of me felt a sting of betrayal, a lingering question of whether his efforts to reconnect were too little, too late.

"I hope you'll be a good father to her," I said finally, my voice steady but laced with a hint of sadness. "Every child deserves that. But just know, it's going to take time for me to... figure things out with us."

Joe nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I know, and I'm willing to wait. You've grown into an incredible person, Bridget, and I'm just sorry I wasn't there to see it happen."

As he spoke, I couldn't help but wonder about this new chapter in his life and what it meant for ours. A new sister, a reformed father - it was a lot to process. But for now, I was content to leave it as an open-ended possibility, a story yet to be fully written.

As our conversation drew to a close, I knew there were things I needed to say, words that had been simmering within me for years.

"Joe, before we part ways, I need you to understand something," I began, my voice firm, reflecting the resolve I felt inside. "You hurt me, deeply. The way you disappeared, the way you neglected your role as a father, it left scars that took years to heal. I'm still healing them. But I'm being helped by mom and dad."

He listened, his eyes meeting mine, and I could see the regret in them. But it wasn't just about acknowledgment; it was about setting boundaries, about making my stance clear.

"I'm giving you a chance here, a chance to be a part of my life in some way. But understand this," I continued, my tone unwavering, "what you did to me, you can never, ever do to your new daughter. If you fail her like you failed me, if you hurt her in any way, you'll have to answer to me. I'm not the 12-year-old kid anymore you could just abandon whenever it was convenient for you. I have a voice and I'll use it."

It was an overprotective stance, perhaps, but it felt necessary, almost cathartic. I was speaking not just for myself, but for the little sister I hadn't even met yet. I wanted to ensure that what happened to me wouldn't happen to her.

"I hope you're a better father to her," I concluded, a mix of hope and skepticism in my voice. "She deserves that. And I'll be watching, Joe. Remember that."

With those final words, we parted ways. As I walked away, I felt a strange mix of emotions. There was a sense of closure, yet also a new beginning, a cautious opening of a door that I had long thought shut. It was a step forward, albeit a tentative one, into a future where the past no longer held the same power over me.

I walked into the house, sniffling from the raw emotions that took control of me on the journey home. The living room was softly lit, and the familiar, comforting scene of my family watching a movie immediately put me at ease. Lena was fast asleep in her pillow fort, a serene look on her face. Mom and dad were cuddled up on the couch, lost in the film, but instantly noticing my arrival.

"Hey, Bee," Dad called softly, his eyes warm and inviting. "Come join us."

I didn't need to be asked twice. Wiping away the last of my tears, I made my way to the couch and nestled into the space next to mom. She wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close, and I could feel the love and support radiating from her.

As I settled in, mom leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I'm so proud of you," Her words were like a soothing balm, healing the emotional turmoil I had just experienced.She kissed me gently on the forehead, and I felt a deep sense of belonging and peace.

Surrounded by the warmth of my family, the weight of my earlier conversation with Joe began to lift. At that moment, with my head resting against my mom's shoulder, I felt a profound gratitude for the love and stability my family provided. It was a stark contrast to the uncertainty and absence I had felt from Joe all these years.

THE END