Love, Demi (lesbian story)

Wasted

Lia's POV

I was given the leave from work, and had built up enough hours to get the majority of it off as paid leave, an opportunity which I took, since I was saving up to move out even more so now. My days for the past month had been filled with nothing too important. I had received another email from Sara Richardson, asking more about Hugh. Why she was so convinced it was the same guy, I have no idea. And I still had no idea why she wanted to know. I hadn't responded to her email. I wasn't sure I wanted to get involved with anything to do with my father, not after what happened when I went to visit him. In my head, I was finished with him. I didn't really need a stranger dragging him back into my life. I opened the email again.

Lia Harrington,

Although I am shocked to find out that the Hugh Harrington you know is in prison, I also wouldn't be surprised if it were the same man I am looking for, it would explain why I hadn't heard from him for 6 years. I was wondering if you would meet with me, I would like to talk in person about Hugh. I have many questions, and desperately looking for answers. I live in the city, I work as a tattooist, maybe we could meet somewhere near. If you could get back to me as soon as you can, I would really appreciate it.

Sara Richardson.

6 years. That is what sticks out to me most in that. 6 years ago my father got taken away. It would make perfect sense as to why this woman hadn't heard from the man she's looking for for 6 years if it were in fact the same person. Could I just let this slide? I began to type a response.

Sara Richardson,

It would make sense if the man you are looking for is the same man I knew, as he was arrested 6 years ago. I will meet with you, however I won't be able to just yet, perhaps in a couple of weeks time. I'll keep in touch.

Lia Harrington.

What did I have to lose?

*****

I hadn't heard from Demi since the day. I never got a reply to the text I sent when I got back from the hospital, so I didn't text her again. It was clear where we stood with each other, but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling I had all the time, about when I was going to hear from her again. Or if I was going to hear from her again.

Ember was growing well, she was almost 4 months old now, and Jackson had finished redecorating her blue walls to replicate scenes from the little mermaid. She was still unusually small for a four month old, but considering how premature she was, she was doing just fine. Rose and Jackson were happy as ever, which was nice to see.

"What are you doing today?" Saph asked me, almost as soon as I came downstairs. It was almost midday, and I was due back at work tomorrow, so I should've started to reset my body clock to waking up earlier. But I hadn't.
"Nothing." I said, after considering whether or not I should've just gone back up the stairs after she jumped down my throat as soon as I made an appearance.
"Well, Rose and I were going to go for lunch in about an hour. You should come. It'll be a bit of practice for walking more than 10 feet at a time." She told me, hinting at the fact that I hadn't left the house in weeks, and always blamed it on my foot. I had had stitches, and they'd been taken out. I always healed pretty quickly anyway. But as long as I could I would use any excuse to stay in the house. Any excuse to rule out any chance of bumping into Demi.
"I don't know. I was just gonna rest really, I have work tomorrow." I said. The resting excuse usually worked. Not today.
"Well, you're coming out anyway, because you've been off for almost 5 weeks now, and we haven't done anything together. Ember's gonna forget what her auntie Lia looks like if you don't see her too." She told me. I rolled my eyes.
"I don't know Saph." I persisted.
"No. You can't keep doing this Lia. What the hell happened that night? Why won't you go outside? Why haven't you seen Dem-"
"I should go and get ready if we're going in an hour." I cut her off, keeping myself as calm as I could. She sat opposite me at the kitchen counter, her mouth still open from talking before. I slid off my chair and limped away, up the stairs, and back into my bedroom.