Chapter 22

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow!! I randomly logged into Wattpad several years after discontinuing this story and saw all the comments from people who enjoyed it. I re-read it and felt that I should try to give this story some kind of ending. The next few chapters were almost finished years ago, but I'd never published it, so I'm editing/publishing them now... and then I'm going to work on writing the rest, since there's likely only a few more chapters to go. Thank you all for the reads, votes, and comments :)

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"It's been so many years, Anna," my dad said. His voice was shaky, so it took a few seconds to understand what he was saying through the phone because it was muffled. He was definitely crying. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I've had so much time to think about the mistakes that I made. I'm sober now. You had to grow up so fast, and it's my fault--it's your mother and I's fault. Did you get all the birthday cards and letters?"

His voice did sound genuine, which was something that made me angry. This was a lot for me, and I wasn't sure that I was ready to hear all the excuses and apologies for his neglect. "I did get the birthday cards and letters." My response was curt.

He sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. I don't expect you to forgive me, Anna. I just want you to know that."

"There was a reason for this call," I snapped. Maybe I was being a bit harsh, but I wasn't ready to hear all this yet. "Evan's in the hospital. He has a collapsed lung, and he put you as an emergency contact. He's stable now, but he's going to be admitted for a few days."

My dad breathed deeply. "I've been so worried about Evan throughout all of this. Thank you for looking out for him."

My jaw dropped. Evan said he'd spoken to dad a few times, but that sure didn't sound like 'just a few times'. "How often did you talk to Evan?" I demanded.

"Almost every day," my dad responded. As if not to make me feel guilty, he added, "I understand why you didn't call, Anna. He was too young to remember everything you two were put through."

I was trying to hide the sound of me crying, but I was failing. Evan was afraid to tell me that he'd been talking to our dad almost every single day.

That was a huge thing for him to keep from me, and it broke my heart. Clearly, our supposed 'close sibling bond' wasn't as close as I thought. What had I done wrong? I always wanted to be the person that he wasn't afraid to tell anything. Was he afraid of my reaction?

"Yeah," I said, still stunned from this sudden revelation. "Well, I just wanted to tell you about Evan."

"Thank you, sweetie. You sound so grown up now. I miss you. I love you to the moon and back."

Memories of my dad and I exchanging 'love you to the moon and back' at bedtime when I was a kid flooded my mind, and the tears flooded my eyes. I'd forgotten about that, or maybe I'd just stuffed it away in a hidden corner of my mind because it was too painful to remember.

My parents had been neglectful--there was absolutely no denying that--but it was because of the drugs. When they were sober, they were good parents. That was the catch, though--when they were sober. That wasn't often enough, unfortunately, to be good parents. They did neglect Evan and I, and there was nothing they could do to change that. 

I swallowed, and it felt like there was a lump in my throat. "Okay, bye," I responded, ending the call. 

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was startled as I hadn't heard anyone enter the room. Looking up, my vision was blurry because of my tears, but I could see Jason standing there. He was dressed in the same jeans and polo that he had worn a few hours ago on the flight back to New York. Why was he here?

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