mile a minute, trying to unpack everything that’s happened in the last week. Losing one parent but gaining another? Is this the trade off? If so, this is bullshit. But I also know if this is the last chance I’ll ever have to speak to the man that is responsible for half of my DNA, I want answers. Or at least one fucking answer. I pull from Dominic’s grasp and move towards my grandparents and whatever his name is.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Darling,” my grandmother starts.
“Grandma, please,” I plead.
“Micah,” he answers, despite the three sets of eyes glaring at him to walk the fuck away and leave me in the dark.
“Where do you live?” Is he nearby? Has he been living down the fucking block this whole time?
“New York, but I spend a lot of time in Italy for work.”
“Why…now? Where have you been my whole life?”
“She kept me away, Stassia. She said I wasn’t fit to be a father, and she was right. I was in with a lot of bad people for a long time. Dangerous people. But I got out of all that. I run a legitimate business now, I swear.”
“Okay, so you were in the mob or whatever the fuck.” I wince and look at my grandmother. “Sorry,” I tell her before turning back to him. “But that doesn’t stop you from picking up the phone, or writing me a letter, or even letting me know you existed…or that you cared that I existed.”
“I did write to you. I sent birthday cards…you never got them, I guess.” Is he fucking serious?
“Wow, that must make you father of the year, huh? You’re a coward. You didn’t want the responsibility or the liability of having a family while you were off playing The Godfather or whatever. Excuse me for not being moved by your attempts to reach out via some bullshit Hallmark cards.”
His face falls and I watch as his seemingly perfect posture deflates slightly. “Stassia…”
“You didn’t want me.” My voice is even and I’m proud of myself for keeping the emotion out of my voice. I’m proud that I didn’t let him see just how much years of indifference affected me. How much his presence is affecting me now. He doesn’t deserve that.
“I did.” His voice is pleading, like he wants so badly for me to believe him, but I can’t help feel this is all some bullshit act to ease his guilty conscience over being a shitty father especially now that I don’t have a mother.
Don’t let years of your mother’s truths be erased by ten minutes of pretty words, Stassia. “My mother said you split when she got pregnant.”
“That’s not entirely true. I split because they would have taken you both from me. I couldn’t care about anyone or they would have taken them as leverage. I loved you before I even met you and I loved your mother more than I loved myself, so I left, to save your lives.”
I look over at my grandmother, wondering how she feels about what I assume to be new information. “I think it’s very easy to say all of this now, when your child is damn near grown,” she snaps. Wow, she didn’t even buy it, and she’d invite the devil in for a hot meal if he needed it.
“It’s the truth. I’ve been out of that life for a few years now, but…your mom…Angela, she said it was too late. You were fifteen and doing so well. She said I’d fuck your life up by coming back.”
Why Mama!? You knew I wanted to know this side of my family and you turned him away when he was trying!
“Is that true?” I turn around to look at Dominic and he looks just as stunned. “Tell me!”
“I…I don’t know, Stassi.”
“I just want a chance to be in your life, Stassia. I know you don’t trust me and have probably heard a lot of terrible things about me growing up. But I’m not all bad. I made a lot of mistakes, but any mistakes I’ve made regarding you was to keep you safe. I should have come for you sooner, but…I thought I owed it to your mother to respect her wishes.”
“How did you find out she died?”
He clears his throat and looks off into the distance. “How? I…I had someone who kept tabs on you…to make sure you were safe. I haven’t in some time, but when your mother died…”
“You come here?” Dominic growls and steps in front