You, Always

Chapter Twenty-Two: Looks Like You've Seen A Ghost

Previously:

"Mandy?" The voice calls and I wouldn't be surprised if all colour has drained from my face.

The use of my full name... The familiarity of the face...

Within seconds I know who it is...

I think I'm going to pass out...

*****

Over time I may not have remembered vividly what he looked like after he walked out on me and my mum but this is him. Without a doubt.
I thought, hoped, I would never have to see him again because I'm sure as hell wasn't going to track him down.

Why would I be interested in building a relationship with someone who didn't care enough to stay?

"Dad?" My voice betrays me, cracking. I sound sad but I'm the complete opposite. I'm fucking furious.

He walks towards us, moving passed everyone else to get closer to me. I step backwards, my back hitting the car in the process. "You've grown so much." He whispers and I hold my arm out in front of me.

"Stop. Don't even think about coming near me." I squeeze Cole's hand tighter and he rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand.

This man who's meant to be my father stands in front of me. But in reality, he's just a stranger to me.

Why did I even call him dad?

I should be calling him by his name. He's no father. He probably has a family at home waiting for him. New kids. New wife. New family.

As angry as I am, the thought of him having a new family feels like... betrayal.

He walks closer, ignoring my demand and Cole thankfully speaks up for me.

"This has nothing to do with me but if she says for you to not move any closer it means you stop." Fuck I love him so much.

"I know you may be upset that I-" I cut him off before he can try and feed me any type of poor excuse.

"Upset that you what? Left us? I'm not upset, I was past that so long ago. I'm angry. Why are you even here? How did you find me?" I watch him fiddle with something on his hand. I look closer and see it. A ring. A wedding ring.

Looks like I was right...

"I went by the house, Catherine's house." I clench my free hand into a fist. I've balled my fist up so hard I wouldn't be surprised if it draws blood. But right now I couldn't care one bit.

"You don't get to say her name." I spit. My words laced with venom. A look of desperation flashed in his eyes.

"I found it empty. I should've known after everything you still wouldn't be living in the house. I then took a logical guess that you'd moved into your aunts home." My face holds nothing but resentment at this point.

"You knew?" I can't help but shout and he looks down, refusing to look at me. "She was fucking dying and you couldn't even show. "

"I want to build a relationship with my daughter. I'm sorry for not being there for you and I'm sorry about your mother, she was a wonderful woman." He says quietly.

He completely ignored what I just said.

'She was a wonderful woman' he says. So wonderful that he felt the need to leave us alone without warning?

"You're sorry?" I didn't realise I was crying until now. "What part are you sorry for exactly? Was it when you walked out on us, on your daughter who you didn't attempt to contact once in thirteen years? That surely can't be it because that doesn't come close to all the things you should be apologising for."