Stay

6

"Daddy?" I repeat in utter disbelief. It's been years since I last seen him - my 18th birthday to be precise. It was the day I left him and all those terrible memories behind. It was also the last time I visited my mother's grave. 

"It's been a long time, Claire-Bear." My father states. "I've missed you."

I wipe away my tears and slowly stand up. "Why are you here?" I demand.

I watch the man who claims to be my father gulp slowly and look away, as if he is searching for the right words to say to me. An awkward silence engulfs us as I wait for him to say something - anything - to explain him being here right now. 

"Claire-Bear-" 

"Don't Claire-Bear me. Just tell me why, after all this time, you are here!" I yell as I stomp towards him, flailing my arms like a maniac. 

He gulps. "I come today, at this exact time, every year." He replies solemnly. 

And that's when I realize something. That is when I remember that today is the anniversary of my mother's death. I feel myself grow faint and everything spins around me. I stumble backwards and whisper 'Fuck' under my breath at the revelation. 

"I assume that's why you are here?" He asks, studying me. 

"No." I whisper, ashamed at forgetting my own mother's death. "No, I kinda just showed up here." 

My father eyes me carefully, waiting for me to continue. He waits patiently, watching me as I sort out my thoughts. We stand there for what seems like hours, but in actuality it's only minutes, just staring at one another. Both of us not saying anything. 

That is, until my father coughs and steps closer to my mother's grave. 

"I loved - no, I love your mother, Claire. I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her 32 years ago. I loved everything about her. I loved how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. I loved how her golden hair shone in the sunlight. I loved how her smile lit up even the darkest of rooms. I loved how she was kind to everyone. She was an amazing woman." He laments, still looking upon her grave. "I loved her so much, but I was so awful towards her." 

"You were." I agree. 

"I know. I was a selfish man back then. Hell, in some ways I still am. But I couldn't stop. I was addicted to the chase. Addicted to collecting different notches on my belt." He spat, clearly angry at the memories. "I was so far gone, that I failed to see what I was doing to your mother; what I was doing to you." 

He turns to me and stares right into my eyes. Slowly, he raises a hand to my cheek and wipes away the tears with the pad of his thumb. "You look just like her." He whispers. "I'm so sorry, Claire." 

Anger bubbles up inside me and I slap away his hands, leaving a hurt expression on his face. "I just don't understand. If you loved her so much, why did you do it? Why did you cheat? Even when she was begging you to stop and was offering you her forgiveness, you still did it. Why?" I questioned, demanding answers to questions that have burned in my head all these years. "Why, Dad?"

He sighs. "I wish I could explain it. There was a thrill behind it - chasing all these other women behind your mother's back. It gave me a rush." He wipes his face roughly with his hand. "I don't know how else to get you to understand. I never loved these other women. I solely did it for the excitement and that's it.

"It's like when you are a kid and you go to steal a cookie from the cookie jar. You succeed and you get this adrenaline rush from not getting caught. Wait - that's an awful analogy." He mumbles and I find myself giggling, shocking both him and me.