the doorman » a.i au

fourteen; "you're dead to me.""

“He misses you, babe, nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he pulled me closer. Heaving a sigh, I rested my head in the crook of his neck.

As the vehicle came to a halt, I observed my dad’s house. It was traditional and simplistic; it looked exactly like the house I always had in a figment of my imagination, like the dream house he always spoke of.

“You ready?” Ashton held my hand as we both walked towards the door.

I guess this is it.

I knocked on the door once, twice, thri-

“Kara?” the door was half open and then fully as my dad recognized me.

He looked like an entirely different person than the man I met years back. His facial hair was unshaved, telling he hadn’t been taking good care of himself. His eye bags were obvious even under the lack of light on his patio. His hair was messy – and not Ashton’s hot messy, just messy messy – although I wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact that it’s past his bedtime (or more appropriately, his bedtime four years ago.).

“Hi Dad,” it felt as if my voice was caught in my throat.

“I knew you’d come. You’re a beautiful woman now, you’re so grown up.”

It was silent as he pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back. While it might be comforting for him, I was desperate to clear the discomfiture.

“You still keep in touch with Sara?” I asked as he invited us in.

“Yes, I thought that was the only way I could keep track of you,” he shrugged, “She’s a lovely girl, how is she?”

I disregarded his question. “So you couldn’t just… I don’t know, contact me like a normal dad would?”

“You should know that I was a man of high ego. I regret kicking you out, I really do. I regret it every single day. And I regret not doing anything and everything in my power to get you back. I’m sor-“

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t something you can bandage with words or a thousand apologies,” I spat out, almost feeling remorse as my dad flinched. I didn’t realize my fists were clenched until Ashton put his hand in mine. My dad raised his eyebrows as he noticed the gesture. “Right… Who’s this?”

Ashton cleared his throat and offered my dad a handshake. “Sir, I’m Kara’s boyfriend. My name’s Ashton.” He didn’t move a muscle as my dad just traced his figure instead. Withdrawing his hand, he mumbled, “I-it’s nice meeting you.”

“Why have you never told me about him?” my dad simply said as if it was no big deal.

It made me wonder if he had turned into an idiot. I’m no science student but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“You kicked me out, did you really think I was going to just drop by the house again to tell you that I’m dating someone?” I scoffed.

“Could have happened. I wanted you to come home and I’m sure your mum would have given you a second chance if you tried harder. I really regret kicking you out,” he repeated.

“That was a rhetorical question. And Dad, you know she wouldn’t have; the only person she would ever give a second chance to is you. I don’t mean half as much as you do to her and we both know that.” Then, it dawned upon me. “Where’s she anyway?”

“See, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

So there’s the catch. I was right all along – he desired reconciliation because something had happened. And he knew I could help him, which basically meant that he wouldn’t have written me that damn letter if otherwise. The realization hurt a lot but I decided to let it slide, partly because I was curious as to what happened to my mum.