Kismet | ENGLOT

Chapter 30

Engfa's POV:

The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink as I drove aimlessly through the quiet streets. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles pale against the leather. The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the occasional hum of the engine and my uneven breaths.

Charlotte's face filled my mind—her soft smile, the way her eyes lit up even when she was tired. The memory of her pale and fragile in the hospital bed struck me like a knife, the fear of losing her clawing at my chest. I had done everything I could to hold her together, but what if it wasn't enough?

The past few days had been a blur of emotions: fear, love, desperation. Through it all, my father had stepped in unexpectedly, paying Charlotte's hospital bills and ensuring she received the care she needed. It was a gesture I hadn't thought him capable of after years of distance and pain. And yet, he had been there when I needed him most—when Charlotte needed him.

My thoughts spiralled as I reflected on the weight of it all. For years, I had carried resentment toward my father, the hurt of him leaving our family like a scar I refused to let heal. But now, for the first time, I saw him as something more than just the man who walked away. He had shown up. Maybe not for the little girl I once was, but for the woman I had become and the person I loved most in the world.

Before I realised it, I found myself turning down a familiar street. My father's house came into view, a place I had avoided for so long. My heart pounded as I pulled into the driveway, the weight of everything I felt pressing down on me like a tidal wave.

I barely turned off the engine before stepping out of the car. My legs felt heavy as I approached the door, my chest tightening with each step. Before I could overthink it, I knocked. The sound felt deafening in the stillness of the evening.

The door opened, and there he was—Dr. Edward Waraha. His face softened in surprise when he saw me standing there, my eyes already glistening with unshed tears. "Engfa?" he said, his voice tentative, almost disbelieving.

I didn't answer. Instead, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly. The dam broke, and the tears I had been holding back for days spilled out freely. My body trembled as I sobbed into his shoulder, and for a moment, we stood there in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words.

His arms came up slowly, hesitantly at first, and then fully embraced me. His hold was steady, warm—a comfort I hadn't felt in years. He didn't say anything, and neither did I, but the silence spoke volumes.

Finally, through my tears, I managed to whisper, "Thank you."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me. His eyes were glassy, his expression filled with emotion. "For what?" he asked softly, his voice shaking.

"For being there," I said, my voice breaking. "For helping Charlotte. For helping me. I needed you, Dad, and... for the first time, you were there."

His face crumpled as if my words had broken something inside him. "Engfa, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything—for leaving, for not being the father you deserved. I thought I was doing what was best, but all I did was hurt you. And I hate myself for that."

The raw sincerity in his words made my knees weak, and I reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. "I was so angry for so long," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I didn't think I could ever forgive you. But Charlotte... she's shown me how to forgive. She's taught me to love and to let go of the pain. I don't know how, but I want to try. For her. For me."