Unspoken Truths

• chapter 10 •

The silence in the house was suffocating.

Drew stood in the kitchen, staring at the empty dinner table. Plates, untouched, sat across from each other like a ghost of the family that used to gather here. His eyes fell on Zara's chair. She hadn't sat there in weeks.

Zara had barely spoken to him since Karen left. She was angry—angry at the world, angry at Karen for leaving, but most of all, angry at Drew. And he didn't blame her. He hadn't exactly made things easy for her. He had been distant, unsure of how to bridge the gap between them. He wanted to fix things, but every time he tried, it only seemed to push her further away.

The tension in their relationship had been simmering for months. Zara had come into their lives under difficult circumstances, and despite his best efforts, Drew could never seem to break through the wall she'd built around herself. The secret of her existence had shattered Karen's trust in him, but it had also shattered whatever fragile connection he had with his daughter.

Drew had thought he could bring her into the family, that they could somehow move forward and heal together. But it wasn't working. Zara was pulling away more and more every day, and with Karen gone, Drew felt like he was losing her too.

Tonight, he decided, had to be different.

Zara had moved back into the house that week, but they barely saw each other. She would come home late, retreat to her room, and avoid him at every turn. But tonight, Drew was determined to talk to her. He wasn't going to let this silence go on any longer. He had to find a way to reach her.

He knocked on her bedroom door, the sound heavy in the quiet house. "Zara? Can we talk?"

No answer.

Drew waited, his hand resting on the doorknob. He knew she was in there—he could hear the faint sound of music playing through the door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked again, this time with more urgency. "Zara, please. I just want to talk."

After a long pause, the door opened slightly, just enough for him to see her face. Her expression was guarded, her eyes cold. "What do you want?"

The way she said his name cut him to the core. She never called him "Dad." She had always kept that distance between them, a reminder that no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't the father she needed.

"I just want to talk," he said softly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Can I come in?"

Zara hesitated, then stepped back, leaving the door open just wide enough for him to enter. Drew walked in and sat down on the edge of her bed, glancing around the room. It was messy, clothes strewn across the floor, her backpack tossed carelessly in the corner. It looked like a reflection of how she was feeling inside—scattered, overwhelmed, lost.

"I know things have been hard," Drew began, searching for the right words. "I know I've made mistakes. A lot of them. But I'm trying, Zara. I'm trying to fix things.

"Zara crossed her arms, leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on the floor. "You can't fix everything, Drew. Some things are just...broken."

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the pain she was carrying. She was just a kid—his kid—but life had dealt her a heavy hand, and he hadn't done enough to help her carry the weight.

"I know," Drew said quietly. "But I don't want us to keep living like this. I don't want you to feel like you're alone. I don't want you to hate me."

Zara's eyes flickered, and for a moment, Drew thought he saw a crack in her armor. But then she shook her head, her voice sharp. "It's not that simple, Drew. You think just because you say you're sorry, everything's going to be okay? It doesn't work like that."

"I'm not asking for everything to be okay," Drew replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm asking for a chance to make things better. For you and for Karen. I want us to heal, but I can't do that if we don't talk."

Zara let out a bitter laugh. "Heal? You think we can heal from this? You lied to her. To me. And now look at us. She's gone, and we're just...what? Playing pretend like everything's fine?"

"I didn't handle things the way I should have," Drew admitted, feeling the guilt rise in his chest. "I kept secrets that I shouldn't have. I hurt your mom, and I hurt you. But I'm not giving up on this family. Not on you."

Zara's expression softened, but only slightly. "What family? We don't even know each other. I'm just...some kid you didn't want but had to take in because you had no choice. And now, you're trying to make up for lost time like that's going to fix everything."

Drew's heart broke at her words. "That's not true, Zara. I want you here. I want you in my life. I don't know how to show that to you, and I'm sorry if I've failed. But you're not just 'some kid' to me. You're my daughter."

Zara's eyes filled with tears, but she quickly blinked them away, turning her back to him. "You don't know me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You don't even know who I am."

Drew stood up, walking toward her. "Then help me understand. Let me in, Zara. I can't change the past, but I can be here now. I can be the father you deserve. But I need you to meet me halfway."

There was a long silence. Zara didn't turn around, but Drew could see her shoulders trembling, the weight of everything finally breaking through her defenses. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but he knew better than to push.

"I don't know how to trust you," she finally said, her voice cracking. "Not after everything."

"I know," Drew said softly. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. For as long as it takes."

Zara didn't respond, but she didn't push him away either. Drew took that as a small victory, a step forward in the seemingly endless road of healing.

As he left her room, closing the door behind him, Drew felt the familiar ache in his chest. This wasn't going to be easy. Zara had every right to be angry, and he knew it would take more than words to rebuild what had been broken.

But for the first time in months, Drew felt something he hadn't allowed himself to feel: hope.

They were fractured, but they weren't beyond repair. He just had to keep showing up, keep trying, and maybe—just maybe—they could find their way back to being a family.