Adopted by Stromae

vingt-cinq

Maelle knew in her head that the only way to move on was to forgive, but her heart sang a completely different song. 

It wasn't that she didn't want to forgive - she wanted that more than anything. She wanted to be able to move on. The problem was the thing she had to do to get to that point.

"Ready to go in?" Paul asked her from the drivers side, concern lacing his tone. He knew that this was best for her, but that didn't mean that he had to like it.

She was still vulnerable, as far as he was concerned. Paul didn't like that she was putting her own wellbeing on the line just to help him, the man that kept hurting her over and over again.

"Yeah," Maelle said, gathering her strength and taking a deep breath, "I'm ready,"

With that, she got out of the car and into the room in which they were holding her father, Pascal Vaillancourt.

He had wanted to see her. She couldn't' say no. He was her father, after all - she felt like she owed him something. He had raised her for all of those years, she felt that she at least needed to hear what he had to say.

Still, she found herself hesitating. The way he hurt her - over and over again - did a great number on her life. She didn't know if she wanted to go through the same thing again. She didn't know if she could go through the same thing again.

This time, though, she had people in her corner, on her side. She did last time, too, but she simply couldn't realize it at that point. She was too prideful too admit that she needed help.

Now, she knew for sure that she could count on Max, Paul and Coralie. They had proven to her over time that they would be there for her no matter what, no matter how much she tried to get rid of them. They would be here. She was not alone.

That was the one thought that made her capable of opening the car door and stepping outside into the windy weather.

She stepped through the large doors, as if in a trance. She zoned out, at least until she saw her father.

To put it simply, he was a mess. She could barely recognize him. The bags under his eyes made him look decades older than his age, along with the hollow cheeks and pale face. He didn't look like the man who had raised her, he looked like a junkie.

But then, he smiled.

It was a small smile, but it was enough to show her that the parts of him that she couldn't see anymore were still there, they were just hidden. It comforted her.

He sat down in front of her, a small, gentle smile on his face, "Maelle," He said, "I didn't think that you would come," He said softly.

Maelle forced a smile onto her face, "I came," She told him, raising a finger to silence him when he tried to speak, "but it wasn't for you. This visit is for me, and me only. I needed closure after what you did to me. You really did a number on me,"

His eyes looked apologetic, but Maelle couldn't let herself be phased. After last time, she had to remain strong. She knew that the main priority in his life was drugs, and she wasn't sure if she was okay with coming in second to drugs.

"I'm so sorry," He said apologetically, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Maelle,"

"Well, you did," She snapped, having had enough, "you hurt me. You hurt me badly." She sighed and rubbed her face.

She knew that nothing he said could make it better. She just needed to talk to him, to see him. Without looking at him in person, she couldn't help but feel that she was exaggerating when she thought that he was too far gone into the world of drugs. She thought that maybe her memories were betraying her, making him seem worse. She had to see him.