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Atlas Hands-Benjamin Francis Leftwich
•Bailey's POV•
"I was talking to Dad about you." Josh started conversation as I helped him clean up the kitchen.
"And?" I mumbled, not really liking the mention on my father, well, our father.
"He wants to meet you, I would have gave him your number but... you know." He mumbled, reaching up to put a plate into the cupboard.
"Really?" I asked, a hint of excitement in my voice, I could feel the spark in my eyes.
"Yeah, I can come with you if you want?" He turned to face me, a small smile on his face.
"I-I don't know, Josh, it's been twenty years." I dropped my head, looking to my sock covered feet.
"Then you'll have twenty years to catch up on, look, Bailey or Macy or Violet, this man is your father at the end of the day, you can't replace that." He tried to reason with me.
"And when did he ever treat me like I was his daughter? He's know of my existence, he knew where I was and how to talk to me but no. Why should I run after him?" My glazed eyes looked desperately into his hazel ones, trying to find answers, or at least comfort.
"Look, Bailey, this is your choice,
I think you'll regret it if you don't. His is still half of you." His tone softened, along with his eyes.
"What's he like?" I asked with a sigh, not really a sad one but not and extremely happy one either.
"He's like me but with grey hair." He smirked. "You've got his nose." He smiled.
"Tell him that I'll think about it, now I need to get going before I get fired." I gave him a small smile before walking out of the kitchen.

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