001. freedom

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"There's my big girl; daddy missed you."

With his tattooed arms held open, wide enough to catch the curly-headed toddler as she ran towards her father, Camron couldn't help the goofy grin on his face. The only thing better than seeing his daughter after eight months of being locked up behind bars was that sweet taste of freedom.

Lifting his baby girl into his arms, tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Her chubby arms wrapped around his neck as best as they could, and it was evident that she was even more excited than he was.

"Daddy," she happily cried into his shoulder, her wild curls tickling his face as he held her close to him. It was a bittersweet moment; happy to be home but heartbroken that he had to be away from her in the first place. It was his fault, and he knew that, but accepting that did nothing to heal his hurt and it didn't help his daughter to understand just why he was gone for so long.

"Where did you go?"

Those four words were heavy enough to snap his heart into two.

What was he supposed to say? How was he going to explain what he had done and the consequences he had to face? Would she even understand?

"Daddy was on a vacation, Adelina; remember what I told you?"

Glancing up, Camron could barely see through his daughter's dark brown curls but he knew exactly who it was. Reluctantly, he lowered his daughter back onto the ground.

The four-year-old, now obsessed with her father's return, grabbed onto his hand. Before he could comfort her and give her reassurance that he wouldn't leave again, the sight of his daughter's mother stunned him into momentary silence.

His mouth grew dry and his palms sweaty, she had that effect on him. Every one of those two-hundred and forty-sum odd days felt like seconds to him looking into his ex's eyes.

She was just as beautiful as he remembered her being, and even though he hadn't seen her since the night of his arrest because she couldn't be bothered to visit him, he still loved her. Whether or not she felt the same, he didn't know.

"Becca," his throat was dry, and her name tasted strange, "hey."

The urge to wrap her smaller frame into his arms was almost unbearable, but he kept his arms at his side while holding onto his daughter's tiny hand. The look on her face told him enough to keep him standing at a decent distance; she had to still be upset with him, and he didn't blame her.

Leaving her to care for their young child, all because of a stupid mistake? Unforgivable.

Her only reply was that sour expression he'd longed to see; oh, how she could catch an attitude.

With her arms crossed over herself, obviously a subconscious move to protect herself, she stayed silent. Upset was an understatement; she was pissed. Camron had hoped that there was a small chance that she'd forgiven him, maybe even understood why he did what he had done, but it was beginning to become obvious that wasn't the case at all.

Awkward didn't even begin to explain how the prolonged silence felt.

Even Adelina noticed the tension between her parents, but she didn't quite understand why. So, thinking nothing of it, she created a distraction that only a four-year-old could.

"Can we go to McDonald's now, mommy?"

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"I used to hate this shit." Yellow burger wrappers scattered the outdoor table top, cold fries untouched. "I think I still do."

Silence.

ghost of you // interracialWhere stories live. Discover now