I always thought I had everything figured out.
After my mother died when I was 12, it was just my dad and I. He supported me through everything and even bought me tampons when Mother Nature decided to barge on in. I knew my mom loved me and obviously my dad does. My dad always kept her spirits alive even after we moved from my home country, Ireland. I wasn't depressed ever even after she passed. It didn't happen suddenly, she was sick. I've always been happy, and that's always what I've strived for; to be happy.
I've lived here in America from the time I was 12 to now...my 21st birthday is just around the corner so about 9 years I've been here. I was ahead of others in school so I graduated when I was 17. I had full ride scholarships for every college with a music or theatre program but I turned them all down to get a two year degree for business management, so I could help my dad run the bakery my mom always wanted to open. Don't get me wrong, I love working there but I've always wandered what would've happened if I had gone down a different road.
I grew up as an only child and have only had one real friend before I met Elizabeth my first day in America, but he left me when I was 16 after I introduced him to my boyfriend of almost five years, Scot...until yesterday.
I thought I was going to marry Scot and take over the bakery whenever dad wanted to hand it down to me. I thought Scot and I would have a beautiful wedding and two children and live happily ever after in the house he had grown up with.
But that was until he cheated on me.
That was before I found out my father is dying.
