You Have Me

Ch.14

I'm scared. Christ, that sounds so weak. But I'm absolutely terrified, and I'm nervous, and I'm a fucking wreck. I have no inclining of what's standing on the other side of the door and I don't know how I'll see my father, after a week. Was his health so bad that he was already showing the signs of death? I hope not. I really, really, really hope not. I'm afraid of finding out how our last conversation ended. Did we even have a conversation? Or did he simply find me so unworthy, I didn't even get to see him? I didn't know. And I'm so sick of not knowing. There was so much we needed to discuss. So many things I needed to figure out. And everything seems so big, and I feel so small.

But right now my size didn't matter and I couldn't back out of this. I knew I had to do this. For him, but mostly for me.

With the sign of the cross I took a deep breath and placed my trembling hand, pushing the double doors open. Dad's back was facing me while his front was facing the book shelve. I now, understood why I was told not to stare at his hair. It was almost gone. It was incredibly thin and fuck. I'm complete shit.

One hundred percent shit.

I cleared my throat and waited for him to acknowledge me. I shook my head trying to rid myself of the images of me doing this when I was younger. This sucks on so many levels. He kept his back to me, "Not now." He says without heat. He let out a sigh shaking his head lightly.

"I can," I coughed clearing my shaky voice. "I can come back?" I offered. Maybe he wasn't ready to see me either. And that was okay. It was understandable.

His back straightened and the book in his hand closed. He turned and I was finally met with his tired face. His eyes were bruised underneath and his cheekbones were prominent like he hasn't eaten in days.

"Beth?" He whispered unsure. I bit my lip and nodded.

"Hello, s-sir." And why can't I say these things without fucking stuttering. Why?

Because I'm me.

Oh, right.

"You're here," he said while walking towards me. I had to fight back every instinct that told me to back up.

"You're here." He said firmly, his voice more believing this time. I nodded letting a puff of air out from my

lungs. Oh fuck, I was here.

"I am." I told him softly, not believing it myself either.

I can feel my heart racing, and I know my eyes are hard. I can't name what I'm feeling because I seem to be feeling everything all at once. He takes one more look at me before launching himself at me. His arms are around my middle as he clings to me. He doesn't seem like he wants to let go, even though I've gone completely rigid under him. And when I realize he's not going to let go any time soon, I hesitantly wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Y-you came."

"Yeah." I breathed out. My words mumbled together because my mouth was smothered by his suit. "Um. Sir? Can you let go? I can't breathe." I asked. I felt his laugh softly before he squeezed me one last time and then set me free.

"Christ, Beth. Please stop calling me sir. That sounds awful."

"Sorry. Force of habit." I said. I didn't mean it as a jab. I really, really didn't. But whether I did or not it made him wince and it made me feel worse. Fuck me. I'm going to hell. "Sorry." I whispered and my dad offered me a sad smile.

Oh god, I can do this. I can do this.

"It's okay, just please don't call me sir. It's not very pleasant." I nodded knowing how he felt. Having to call someone sir wasn't very pleasant for me either. "Are you staying?" He asks his voice hopeful and it had me feeling ten times worse. Because no. I wasn't. I didn't have a reason too. I'm surprised he actually wanted me to stay.