Afraid•Niccolo Genoveder Rossi •

thirty-two

|A few hours later|

|Serena|

Marco and I had hit the movies, window shopped, and went to the beach in the span of 5 hours.

Safe to say, it truly was the best birthday I could've asked for.

I opened the door to my house, Marco closely following me.

The lights were off.

I flicked them on and walked to the kitchen, where my mother and Camilla  stood with a small cake that had candles lit.

I looked over to her right and saw him.

"Dad?" I ask, a crack in my voice.

"Figlia mia". (my daughter). He says, as I ran over to him and threw my arms over him.

He embraced me tightly.

"I missed you so much". I mumble into his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I thought it was time I would pay you a visit". 

"I'm so happy right now". I admit, smiling.

I was genuinely happy.

I was beaming in and out.

"Make a wish, Serena". My mother says, the cake in her hands.

I blew out the candles after I thought about it.

Camilla hugged me afterwards, and Marco came beside me.

"Happy birthday, Serena". Marco says, sitting down next to me.

I rested my head on Marco's shoulder.

"Thank you for everything, Marco." I say.

"Anything for you, Serena". He replies, smiling.

"So, who is this young man?" My dad's voice trialed, as he sat on the other side of me. 

I quickly lifted my  head off Marco's shoulder.

"This is my best friend Marco". I explain. 

He shot me a suspicous look but dropped it.

The night went on, and I couldn't have felt happier.

The night ended, and my father left to sleep upstairs in my room- I'd rather he had a bed than the couch. 

And of course, Marco stayed over.

All the events of the baby shower washed away.

But now  thoughts of my father flooded my head.

"I just don't get it, Marco".

"Get what?"

"Why is my dad here?" I ask. "Did you know about it?"

Marco shook his head.

"And from the looks of it, neither did your mother". Marco explained, laying flat on his back and looking at the ceiling fan.

"I mean, he just up and left for the army without even telling us. Or saying goodbye. I thought he died". I admit, rubbing my eyes.

"It's clear he didn't forget about you, Serena. If he came all the way back here from God knows where, and he remebered your birthday. I wouldn't think too much of it. At least, not tonight". Marco states.

"Yeah. I guess you're right". I say.

It was just two teenagers in the living room, laying on the couch side by side.