coffee beans and baked goods. My dad stands, towering above everyone else, and waves me over to the table he secured in the back corner.
“Thanks for coming,” he says in his extra deep voice as he sits back down. “It’s nice to get to spend some time with just you. Even though I love having you to the house for dinner.”
I give him a small smile, and it’s not even forced.
“This is nice,” I agree, settling in front of the B.L.T. I had him order for me.
“The food just got delivered so perfect timing.”
“I’m starving.” My stomach rumbles in agreement to my words.
“How are your classes going?” he asks, staring down at his salmon meal. The café serves some fancy ass food, I guess to cater to the rich tastes of most of the kids who attend.
“Good, I got an A on my anatomy essay.” I pull it out of my backpack and hand it over like a proud little kid.
“That’s amazing!” He grins, eyes scanning the opening lines of my paper. “Can I keep this?”
“Why?” I ask curiously.
“To put on the fridge beside Gabe and Isaac’s school stuff.”
It’s dumb. I’m twenty-one years old, and it’s a college essay of all things, but the fact he wants to display it on the refrigerator along with my brothers’ stuff feels good. It makes me feel wanted, like I belong. I’m not the outsider I wanted to make myself believe I was in his family.
“Y-You can keep it,” I stutter, trying to keep my emotions at bay.
“Thanks.” He sets it beside him on the table.
“Dad?” My voice is hesitant.
“Yeah?” He looks up from his plate.
“I love you.”
He rears back, startled by my words. It makes me sick to my stomach to admit it, but I haven’t told my dad I love him for years. I was punishing him. And myself. I deluded myself into believing he didn’t love me, or he would have stayed. It was a childish way of thinking. Just because my parents fell out of love, didn’t mean either of them stopped loving me. But I placed all the blame of the divorce on him and that was unfair.
He swallows thickly, looking down to hide the emotions in his eyes, but I see it.
“I love you, too.” He glances up at me. “You’re my little girl. You’ll always be my baby.”
I reach across the table, taking his hand. “I’m sorry.”
For hurting you.
For hurting me.
For everything.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Yes, I do. I pushed you away. Over and over. I said mean, hurtful things to you. I was awful.”
He squeezes my hand back. “You were a child and you were hurting. It was understandable. You didn’t understand—”
I snort. “I was a brat.”
He chuckles, but tears shimmer in his eyes. “Your mom and I might’ve fallen out of love, but I never, not for one second, stopped loving you. And frankly, a part of me will always love your mom, but when you’re not in love with someone, it hurts to stay.”
“I see that now.”
It’s taken years for me to gain that clarity, but I’m glad it didn’t take a second longer. I don’t want to miss out on a relationship with my dad, or even Allison, and definitely not my siblings. I know my mom, wherever she is, is proud of me.
“It’s good to have you back, baby girl.”
“I love you,” I say again, because I can, because I haven’t forbidden myself from those words anymore.
And my dad? He beams, like I’ve given him the greatest gift ever.
“You’re a saint,” Cole exhales in relief upon opening the door to the apartment and finding me in the kitchen making dinner.
“It’s almost ready.”
“I could kiss you right now.” His eyes widen with realization of what he’s said. “Not that I’m going to or anything.” He walks over to me and tries to peek in the oven. “What are you making?”
“Roasted chicken and vegetables.”
“I think I love you.” Again, his eyes grow large. “I’m going to change before I get myself in trouble.”
I laugh, brushing off his words. I know he didn’t mean any of it, so I’m not reading into it.
The timer goes off and I pull the meal out, getting our plates ready. I’m not much of a cook, I’ve never really liked being in the kitchen, so Cole does most of the cooking and I usually clean up. But I figured he’d be tired after his morning and afternoon practices, not to mention the classes in between.
Cole