You Took Life From Me

The man in the stars

I trudged along the cracked pavement, my mind a mess of confusion and hurt. I kicked stones along the way, the repetitive motion somewhat soothing. I didn't notice the man ahead of me until I collided with him, books spilling from my arms and scattering across the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I muttered, bending down to retrieve my things. He knelt beside me, picking up the scattered books with practiced ease. When I looked up to thank him, I was struck by the brightness of his blue eyes-eyes I had seen before. They were so familiar.

He looked at me with a faint smile, his expression kind but curious. "Dahlia?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of recognition.

I froze. The name, the eyes-everything about him seemed achingly familiar. I stared at him, trying to piece together why he felt so known. As the pieces clicked together, my breath caught in my throat.

"Daddy?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The man's smile widened, though it was tinged with a sadness that matched mine. "It's me, Dahlia. I've been looking for you."



A rush of emotions flooded me-anger, confusion, and a strange, conflicting longing. I hadn't seen him in years, not since we left. The memories of him came rushing back, both the love and the pain. My father, Henry, was standing right in front of me.

He reached out a hand, and I hesitated, pulling back slightly. "Why are you here?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "Why did you come after us?"

Henry's expression turned solemn. "I didn't want to be separated from you. I... I made mistakes, Dahlia. But I've missed you. I've been trying to find you, to make things right."

I looked down at the books in my hands, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest. I felt so lost, caught between the need for a father and the anger towards the man who had caused so much hurt.

"Why should I believe you?" I asked, my voice wavering. "You've hurt Mommy. You didn't want us."

Henry's eyes softened with a mix of regret and pleading. "I know I made terrible mistakes. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But I'm here now. I want to make things right."

I shook my head, my heart aching with every word. "I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know if I want to."

He stood up, offering me a hand to help me rise. "Please, Dahlia. Give me a chance to prove that I can change."

As I stared at his outstretched hand, I felt the weight of my decision. The truth of what had happened, the pain I'd felt-it all seemed to collide with this moment. I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew one thing for certain: my life had been upended by secrets and lies, and now, standing before me was the man who had been both a part of my pain and my past.

I couldn't help myself. As I stood there, the shock of seeing him, my father, overwhelmed me. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. My tears soaked into his shirt as I cried against his shoulder. "I love you, Daddy," I whispered, my voice muffled by the fabric.

He held me close, his hand gently stroking my back. "You've grown into a beautiful young lady," he said softly. His words brought a mix of relief and joy, causing me to forget, if only for a moment, the hurt and anger that had defined my past.

With newfound excitement, I pulled away slightly, looking up at him with a hopeful smile. "I live just down the street. Mom is at home. I can show you where we live!"

He smiled back, his eyes reflecting the same excitement. "Lead the way."

Hand in hand, we walked back towards the apartment. My heart raced with anticipation. I could already imagine the look of shock and joy on my mother's face when she saw him. As we reached the door, I opened it and called out, "Mom! Mom, guess what?"