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“Is that your mother?” His voice sounds genuinely curious, and I’m confused. Why is he acting like he doesn't know what mom looks like?
“Yes. She’s still beautiful. It’s your loss.” I lift both shoulders.
He exhales, the sound almost reminiscent of decompression and for a moment, I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. But not really. Screw him and his bullshit.
“Look, I—” He starts, his attention shifting to me from the image of mom on the wall, but the creak of a door cuts him off.
Fredrick emerges, hair tousled, a strong set to his shoulders as if he’s ready to do battle. His eyes, always so guarded, soften when they meet mine, but harden again at the sight of the man pretending to be my father.
“Did I interrupt something?” the stranger asks, turning those tired eyes from Fredrick to me with more than a hint of understanding in them.
“Nothing important.” My pulse quickens. I don’t want him to know Fredrick is important to me. I don’t want to give this loser the satisfaction of knowing just how much Fredrick means to me.
Fredrick makes his way to my side, then sits on the couch beside me. I lean ever so slightly into him, seeking comfort in him, a comfort he readily gives.
“Let's get this over with,” I say, not hiding the impatience I feel. “What do you want?”
It's time for answers. Whatever the reason he has for coming into my life after all these years, I need to be clear; he’s not welcome here, or in my life, ever again. And once he walks out that door, I want it shut for good.
The chill in the room seems to seep into my bones as my father takes a seat, hunched over like a man carrying the world on his shoulders. Funny, given that he escaped accountability and responsibility for the family he helped create.
I glance at Fredrick, loving how his hand rests comfortably on my knee, offering silent strength and warmth.It’s not fair that this man grounds me and is also out of reach.
“I wasn't ready to be a father, to face that kind of responsibility.” His voice cracks. “And when Emma came along... I couldn't handle the pressure.”
“Oh, boo, hoo. So, you ran out on your family because you were weak. Mom deserved better than you, and you deserve to be cut out of our lives.” I’m endlessly proud of my mom and all she’s sacrificed over the years to help us become happy, healthy, well-loved individuals.
His eyebrows jump nearly to his hairline as if he’s shocked.
“Please tell me you didn’t expect me to feel sorry for you,” I say, just as shocked as he looks. “You ran away to escape the life you created, left someone else holding the bag, and then, what, fucked around and had fun for the last sixteen, seventeen years?”
“I messed up.”
“Yeah, you did.”
I watch, detached, as a tear trails down his cheek. He wipes it away quickly, as if ashamed. I don’t feel bad for him; he made his decisions, now he faces the consequences.
“Being a parent means being there, no matter what,” I say, the bitterness in my voice surprising even me. “And I want as much to do with you as you wanted with us since you left.”
Fredrick's thumb rubs small circles on my skin, soothing the pain of old wounds that are reopening with every moment I face the man who decided to choose himself over his family.
“Look, Lila,” he pleads, leaning forward, hands clasped as if in prayer. But there’s no forgiveness here for him. Not from me, anyway. “I've made mistakes, more than I can count. But leaving you and Alex and Emma... it eats at me every day.”
I can hardly contain a sharp chuckle. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as the words painfully shred my throat.
“I know that nothing I say can change the past.” He glances down at his hands, but not before I see his expression; he looks defeated. “I just needed you to hear it from me.”
“Neat story. You can go now.” I stand, indicating his welcome has come to an end.
Fredrick stands beside me, his shoulder gently bumping mine and leaving me feeling safe, supported, and important.
Chapter Seventeen
Fredrick
I can see Lila's leg bouncing, a sure indication of her stress levels.
I can't really blame her; with her mother's health, Alex's recovery, her sister vanishing, the endless cycle of bills, and now her father walking back into her life after being absent for so many years... how could she be anything but stressed out?
