Just us.

31. Home

(Mia's pov)
I've decided to end my trip earlier than planned to go home. I came here to follow the last lead on what might be a relative of my father. This was the last trip. Now, I'm done.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking for someone who clearly doesn't want me. I suppose I've known that for a while. I just needed that bit of closure? I don't know.

But now my life is so different. A good different. Charlotte and I are getting along great, I'm finally free from Roger and not hated by everyone I care about.

Reece and I have actually been talking a bit. Now he knows the truth about what happened I think his opinion has softened. He and Autumn have decided to take over the nurseries and leave their father down in the ditches, I can say I'm proud. They deserve a lot more.

Anyway, to overthrow Roger, they need majority votes from the board. Which I'm on. So Reece called and asked me to pay a little visit at the next meeting.

The most important thing though, is obviously going home to Char. It's been a while since I've seen her and I just want to hold her again. I just hope she feels the same.

I mean, we have been talking a lot and have sort of a friendship with a few cheeky benefits which I cannot complain about. But I want more. I just don't know how she feels.

I know that Charlotte deserves the world and right now, I'm not good enough for her. But I want to be. I want to be her everything and eventually I will. This may sound ridiculous and pathetic but I have been speaking to this woman recently.

I guess you could say a therapist if you have to. She's helping me work through some issues so I can be better for Charlotte. All for Charlotte.

We've only talked on the phone a few times. We've been focusing on my dad mostly, how he left and what I've been through because of that. I don't usually talk to people especially about my dad, I'm not used to it. So Michelle told me to write it down instead which is honestly a ridiculous idea. What is writing a letter going to do?

He won't see it. He won't read it. He will never know how much he hurt me or my mum. He will never have to live with that. So while he is living his best life without a thought of me, I'm sat here looking for scraps filled with all the hurt and pain and anger he left me. How is that fair? I mean, he may not have needed me or wanted me at all. But I was a kid. I was a child who needed their dad. And he didn't care.