The Bubblegum Motto ✓

-14-

My hands were trembling by the time Nixon pulled his black sedan into one of the parking spaces in the plaza, multiple fancy restaurants towering over us. My father had reserved a party room in one of the restaurants so we could have our privacy. I didn't realize that he grew rich since the last time I saw him.

"You ready?" Nixon asked, but his eyes expressed concern when he saw my hand. To try to stop the trembling, I was clasping and unclasping my hands, letting my fingers intertwine and separate over and over again.

Nixon reached over and laced his fingers with mine, squeezing it tightly, his eyes expressing nothing but encouragement and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, his eyebrows knitting together and his voice expressing concern.

I wetted my lips, feeling my heart pound uncomfortably against my ribcage as I eyed at the area. "It's been eleven years," I said softly, my voice hoarse. "What if he doesn't recognize me?" I queried, though that wasn't my biggest fear. "What if I can't recognize him?"

Almost immediately, a fat tear drop rolled down my cheek but before I could catch it with my own hand, his thumb brushed across my cheek, wiping it away. He stared at me, his eyes now expressing determination. "Kaia," he began softly, pain evident in his voice. "You're one of the strongest people I know, and I wasn't lying when I said that. I know you'll do amazing, and that you'll get out of there just fine."

"But I'm scared... what if he aged so much I can't—"

"You will recognize him," Nixon insisted, brushing away another tear. "Okay?"

I nodded weakly, trying to regain my composure. I took deep breaths, focusing on Nixon's face and his face only.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded again, not trusting my voice.

"I'll be with you the entire time, okay?"

I nodded once more.

"Say something."

"Yeah. Thank you." I was thankful to hear that my voice was smooth and even.

A small smile appeared on his face, and I was acutely aware of the dimple that materialized in his left cheek. "I'll always be here for you. Know that."

"Yeah, I do." My voice was a monotone, and I tried to liven up a bit, leaking more emotion into my tone. He used his free hand to brush aside some of my hair, softly caressing my skin. "I believe in you, Kaia."

I gulped down my worries, focusing my attention on his face and his expression before forcefully nodding.

"And I'll be here the whole time."

With that, we advanced into the restaurant, my hand clasped in his. I was suddenly feeling a little feverish. Instinctively, I held a hand to my forehead, exhaling loudly. 

The minute we stepped in, I felt underdressed in my normal tee and shorts, seeing as nearly everyone here was dressed semi-formal. I felt Nixon squirm beside me. Maybe we should've done our research before entering blindly.

Ignoring the curious looks sent to us, we followed a waitress into the party rooms. My dad was already there, sitting on the luscious seats with his hands holding a menu. I could still recognize him, much to my relief. He still had the same hair—though slightly grayer—and those same soft eyes that allowed me to immediately know it was my biological father, the man that taught me to always do good things.

Nixon squeezed my hand when my father looked up from the menu, a grin taking over his face and his eyes welling up. Anger flared in my stomach. He had no right to be emotional when he was the one making the decision to leave without a single care in the world. "Kaia," he said, his voice filled with longing.