THE INEVITABLE │ t.h

ONE

Tom frowned as his daughter grumbled and moaned with every word spoken and each soft push, stuffing her face further into the pillow, flinging the sheets over her head swiftly.

"Evie, please," he murmurs as she continues to fight him to get ready for school. "We haven't got time for this."

"Fine," she mumbles, stumbling out of the warmth and comfort of her bed and into the bathroom across the hall from her bedroom, slamming the door shut. Tom flinches, sighing heavily as he tries his best to relax his body. He moves himself in front of the closed door.

"Do you want me to braid your hair?" he questions through the door, running a hand through his hair. As he lacked sisters, Tom had to look up and watch several tutorials on how to braid hair for beginners once his daughter had continuously asked for the hairstyle, eventually getting the hang of it after a couple of years.

"No," she grunts, the sound of her brush ripping through the snarls in her brown, wavy, unkempt hair. Again, Tom sighs.

"I love you, E," he speaks through the door, resting his forehead on the wood, shutting his eyes as he tried to remain upbeat through the earliness of the morning.

"Love you too," she mutters, her voice more muffled than usual. He huffs, standing up straight, and walks off to the kitchen to ready her breakfast and backpack.

Soon enough his daughter steps into the kitchen, sitting at the island counter on a barstool that was only a head shorter than her. She grinned slightly at the pancakes, a chocolate chip smile engraved in the golden fluffiness, a strawberry sat on top for the nose, and a cup of apple juice beside the dish. Tom smiles, watching as she devours it.

"Ready," she says, putting her plate and empty cup in the sink, turning on the faucet so the dishes can at least soak and allow the grit to remove itself. Her jacket was already zipped up to her neck.

"Come on then," Tom chuckles, lifting her over his shoulder. He snatches her backpack on the way out, setting her in her appropriate car seat. She slaps his hands away from the seatbelt with a soft giggle.

"I can buckle myself, daddy," she speaks, smiling up at him. "I'm six years old."

"I know," he responds. "Just checking." He returns her smile before shutting her door and sliding into the driver's seat.

On the way to school, Evelyn decided to ask the question she'd been pondering on the past couple days. "Daddy?" she questions, picking at her fingers.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he questions back, eyebrows raised as he waited for her to speak again.

"Will we ever move back to England?" she asks, staring out of her window to watch the passing landscape. She missed Tom's face tightened and his fingers clasp the steering wheel in a hold that would choke someone to death.

"I don't think so, Evie," he responds, trying his best to keep the bite out of his response. His knuckles continued to whiten.

England. The country that held so many wilted good memories, only bringing a bitter taste to Tom's mouth, accompanied with angered tears. He would never move back there, despite his family occupying a few places in the United Kingdom. Visits were long enough.

Evelyn could sense the tension the question had brought, not daring to ask why he didn't think so. She remembered hearing Tom cry himself to sleep some nights, now knowing the horrible thing that made her father upset was the country. Her nose turned up toward the United Kingdom now, wanting nothing to do with it - except to see her grandparents and uncles occasionally.

"Daddy?" Evelyn finally spoke again, turning her attention to his face in the rear view mirror. His eyes met hers, a gentle look overtaking the firm glare. "I love you loads."

A smile broke out on Tom's face, his hatred pushed aside suddenly. "I love you more, princess."

"Not possible," Evelyn retorts. "I love you more!"

"You know I love you most," Tom gently remarks, chuckling as his little girl huffs loudly and slams her arms criss-cross over her chest.

"How about..." she starts, relaxing her face and arms, looking to her feet as they swung back and forth, not quite far back as they would thump against the leather seat sooner than expected. "How about we love each other the same."

Tom averts his eyes from the road once more, grinning at Evelyn, though she couldn't see it. "I love that idea, Evie." Her frown is replaced by a bright smile, her eyes catching his before he returns his pupils to the road ahead, not wanting to crash and ruin this beautiful moment. "You're such a smart little lady."

"You know it," Evelyn proclaims, posing sassily. Tom laughed, shaking his head.

"You definitely get your sass from your mother," he chuckles, this sort of thing being the only time he could ever mention her without feeling a tightening of his chest and stomach.

"Nuh uh," Evelyn remarks. "You're the sassiest of them all."

"Oh yeah?" Tom questions, looking back again. "Who told you that?"

"Uncle Harry," she mumbles.

"Well," Tom sighs, deciding it best to revert his eyes to the road and keep them there until he was parked, "he isn't wrong - but he isn't right."

"What?" Evelyn questions, confused. "That makes no sense, daddy."

"It does and it doesn't, sweetheart."

"Stop that!" she squeals. "It's hurting my head." She clamped her hands around her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Sorry, princess," he chuckles. He continues on his route, taking a left at the third stoplight. "By the way," he begins, "you dressed yourself so nicely today."

Evelyn gushed, a warm smile placed on her lips. "I didn't pick a wrinkly shirt this time!" she exclaims.

"I'm proud of you, E," he replies. "You're growing up beautifully."

"Thank you, daddy," she returns. "You're doing pretty good too!"

"Yeah?" he questions. "With what?"

"Well, you've gotten out of your pajamas and dressed in clean clothes for a whole month now!" she exclaims. Tom's smile fades, not knowing his daughter noticed or even cared so much about his disheveled appearance. "Hey, don't look so sad," she pouts. "I'm proud of you, daddy."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he replies, forcing a smile onto his face. She smiles back, falling for the bait as her eyes return to the quickly passing greens and blues. Tom's frown returns, his heart lacking a happy beat this morning. Why couldn't he just get her out of his life completely, once and for all?