Come back

Chapter 24

Emilie's P.O.V.

I looked through the window at my... father... and silently held back my tears. This man symbolised in a way all the pain and anger I went through after my brother's death. I hadn't really ever let go of my anger towards him, of my hatred in a way. However, seeing him in pain like this, I only felt sadness and grief. Sadness because I never wished him to suffer, not really at least, not in this way. Grief because I'd never be able to get back the years we were separated and, no matter how much anger I felt towards him, he was still my father. I still loved him at one point.

People say that hatred never comes without love. I never understood what they meant by that, but I could see it now. Deep down, I never stopped loving him. I might hate him, but there is still a part that recognises him as my father, as the man who gave me my life, as the man who raised me and loved me during so many years, as the man I once loved so so much. Even if things had changed now, nothing could erase the past, although I had never been able to see that in the past. He might have done wrong things, but he was once the best dad I could ever wish for.

I looked at the box in my hands and sighed. I had come to give him this, and yet here I was, unable to go in. Afraid to face him. I knew that he had seen me through the window, the grief and recognition in his eyes when he had looked up were proof of that, but that didn't mean that I didn't have some hope that I'd manage to get away without him knowing. However that was without counting on Hiroki who was waiting for me in the car outside. He'd never let me get away with not seeing my father. I looked behind me and I saw the little devil standing at the entrance to the cemetery, watching me. I groaned in frustration and shook my head. I was definitely not getting away with not going to see my father.

Sighing, I knocked on the door and pushed it open, not even waiting for an answer. I then stepped in, careful not to make any noise, clinging to the hope that maybe he wouldn't notice me. All my hopes were of course broken the moment he painfully turned to me.

"E-Emilie?"

The pain in his voice was evident and it somehow managed to break my heart. Nodding, I moved closer to the couch were he was lying and sat in front of him, putting the box I was holding in my lap. I looked at him, his face, his clothes, his eyes, his hands, everything, trying to find my dad, the memories of my dad, in this man. He was also looking at me intently, and I wondered what he saw in the young woman in front of him. Did he see his daughter? Did he see a total stranger?

Not liking the silence between us, I raised the box up and, after opening it, put in so that he could see inside.

"I printed out some pictures of the past years. So you know what I've been up to. If you care," I finished awkwardly, not knowing if he actually wanted to see any pictures. Feeling suddenly very embarrassing by my gesture, I rambled on, "it's okay if you don't. I just thought I'd spare you asking for them if you did want them. But you don't need to look at them, it's fine if you don't, really."

I stopped there, unsure what else I could say, starting to regret coming here. What was I thinking when I printed out those photos and put them in the box and brought them here? Why would he be interested in them? I groaned internally and started to pull the box back towards me when he put his hand on the box, stopping me.

"Wait," he rasped out, a weird emotion tainting his voice, "I want to see them."

I looked up at him, surprised. He wanted to see them? Why? After all these years, he wanted to know what was going on with me? What my life had been ever since I went into my adoptive family? He had never contacted me all these years, so I thought that he didn't care about me. However, seeing him like this, looking at the photos with tears in his eyes, I couldn't help but think that maybe I had been too unfair with him. Had I judged him too harshly?

"When... when was this taken?"

I looked at the photo he was holding and smiled sadly, trying to keep my tears at bay. It was a photo of Leonora, Shania, Hiroki and I, eating a crown-shaped cake and all looking the happiest we'd ever been.

"It was during my birthday, three years ago..." pointing at each person, I explained who they were, "this is Shania, one of my closest friends. I don't know if she came by here, I think she avoids the cemetery... And that's Hiroki, her boyfriend. I think you already met him, he comes here often... He's one of the sweetest guys I ever met. And one of the most understanding as well," I paused there, unable to talk about the last person on the picture. I locked eyes with the Leonora in the picture, and tried not to burst out crying.

I remembered that day very well, because it was one of the happiest in my life. We had gone to Disneyland to celebrate my birthday, and the three of them had organised a small party there, asking the staff to make a cake and for it to be given to me by Ariel, as she was my favourite Disney princess. Leonora later told me that I had never looked that happy as that day. And I didn't think I'd ever be as happy as that again.

"Who is the last person?"

"Le-Leonora. She... she was my girlfriend."

And with those words I burst out crying, crumpling on the floor.