Lighter

by Gia Riley

  He sighs. I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m simply stating the obvious.

  “But you shouldn’t have to. Yes, we’re both adults, but until we graduate and get on our feet financially, you need a place to call home. Hell, I’m a year older than you and I still need it. So don’t get caught up in a numbers game. I don’t want you to quit school and settle for a dead end job for the rest of your life.”

  “I don’t want to quit school, or live a miserable life either. It would be a repeat of their lives.”

  “You’re already more than they’ve ever been, beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Kipton.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  Before we can discuss anything else, Cara’s rattling the door knob. “Sophie? Kipton, it’s my turn. Give her back.”

  I snort, laughing at the way she’s turned me into a prized possession. Kipton rolls his eyes as a brother would. “She always was a pain in the ass.” He helps me up off the floor and walks me to the office doors. “Love you.”

  I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him but he easily lifts me off my feet. I lock my legs around his waist and deepen his kiss. “Give. Her. Back!”

  Kipton reluctantly sets me back on my feet. Slowly opening the door, Cara reaches inside like a caged animal that’s been set free. “Bout time, come on. Let’s go see your room. It’s connected to mine!”

  “Wonderful,” Kipton murmurs. He mouths the words later to me. Like I’d ever be able to forget his promise.

  I’m seriously living in a fairytale right now. From tree houses to mansions—I feel like Cinderella.

  THE WEEK WITH KIPTON WAS amazing. The days were uneventful, yet absolutely perfect. We stayed up late watching movies, played board games around the kitchen table, and laughed. Laughter can easily be taken for granted, but never again will I wonder what it’s like to laugh so hard you give yourself the hiccups.

  I thought it might be awkward pretending to belong to a family that doesn’t share any of my DNA. Much to my surprise, it’s fairly easy. Worried Kipton would end up feeling suffocated having me around nonstop, he never once said or did anything to lead me to believe he regretted the decision. Sucking up every second of happiness, I had a restless night last night as our vacation came to an end. If it was up to me, I’d put off going back to school for another week. But I have to face the facts and bow out of gymnastics. I dread the conversation with Coach Evans, but I can’t stay on the team knowing what I now know. I’ve had plenty of time to self-reflect on my decision. After lining up the positives against the negatives—the negatives took the top prize without a shadow of a doubt. It was time I left.

  “You okay, babe?”

  “Nervous, but I’m good. I really love your family, Kipton.”

  He rubs his hand back and forth on my thigh. “You’re exactly what we were missing. I’ve never seen Mom happier.”

  “It didn’t seem like you were ever missing anything.”

  “Things seem complete now. Like you were meant to find your way to me.”

  Complete.

  Resting my head against the back of the seat, I decide to rip the Band-Aid off before I change my mind. “Can you drop me off at the gym. I’m sure Coach is in his office.”

  Kipton hesistates. “Now? Don’t you want to get settled in your room first?” His dad was on the phone with the school the second campus reopened. He managed to get all the paperwork straightened out with financial aid for my loans to kick in at the start of the new semester. For now, I’d be given a grace period considering the special circumstances of forfeiting my scholarship. I’ll be able to stay in the dorm with Cara and life can go on as planned.

  “Now’s as good a time as any. I’m dreading it, but it has to be done. All the paperwork with the Bursar’s Office is in the works.”

  “Do you want me to go inside with you?”

  “No.” I have to face him on my own. Just the two of us. Father and daughter.

  Kipton forcefully exhales and squeezes the bridge of his nose. The same thing he does every time I stress him out. “Sophie, this is about more than just leaving the team. He’s your blood.”

  “I know he is.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? Just in case.”

  “What do you think is going to happen? He can’t hurt me anymore than he already has.”

  “I don’t want him hurting you any more either.”

  I can’t go into his office upset so I don’t bother responding. Instead I wait for the car to come to a stop in front of the gym. “I’ll text you when I’m done, but I’d like to walk back if you don’t mind.”

  “Sophie.” He definitely minds.

  “Please, Kipton. I’ll meet you back at the dorm. I need to do this my way.”

  “Fine. Call me if you need me and I’ll pick you up.”

  “Thank you.” I close the car door with shaky hands. My legs carry me inside, but my mind is busy going over the speech I’ve been rehearsing for the past week. It’s all in there; I just hope I can get it all out without him stopping me.

  The gym seems bigger after not having been inside for so long. The same smells of the chalk and sweat mix in the air. While they once comforted me, they now make me want to run.

  Although most of the office doors are closed, the light radiating from Coach Evans’ office seeps into the hallway. Each step toward it brings me closer to the truth of my existence.

  One, two, three knocks on the open door until I get the okay to enter. “Coach.”

  “Sophie.” He stands up and points to the couch by the window. “Have a seat. I think we have a few things to discuss.”

  Shuffling over to the sofa, we waste no time getting down to business. Though asked to sit, I stay standing while holding onto the arm of the sofa for support. “I’m leaving the team, which you probably already know. The office told me you had the official release papers here in your office. I’d like to sign them and be on my way.” Now that I’ve said the words, they carry so much more weight. I’m really giving it all up.

  “Just like that? You’re quitting after all the years of hard work you dedicated to the sport. You’re so talented, Sophie. You have to know this is a mistake. One you will likely regret.”

  “Gymnastics doesn’t make me happy anymore. Not since my eyes were opened to the truth. I have a lot more to dedicate my life to. Things that will give back to me and support me the way they’re supposed to without being asked.” It’s a roundabout dig at his lack of parenting, although unintentional.

  “I understand your frustration. But you have the fire inside you, Sophie, to make something great out of this. You can be a winner; make the team stronger. There’s a place for you and I’d like you to stay.”

  “You want me to stay? Or you want to win? Because the way I see it, you had twenty years to ask me to stay and you never did. From my point of view, this has everything to do with your success as a coach and nothing to do with me.” Now that I’ve spoken the words rattling around inside my mind, I’m feeling overwhelmed. I claim the edge of the couch cushion, not wanting to be any closer than necessary to him.

  Coach stands up and inches closer. Kneeling down in front of me, he removes his glasses and pinches his thumb and middle finger in the corners of his eyes. Eyes that match my own. “Sophie, I made a lot of bad decisions in my life—I take credit for them all. But I did what your mother begged me to do. I had no choice.”

  “Everyone has a choice.” Even me.

  “That’s true, and hiding the fact that you were my daughter went against my better judgment, but it’s the way she wanted it. I had to do what she wanted.”

  “That’s bullshit. You could have told her to go fuck herself. Who cares what she wanted. What about what I needed?”

  “Sophie, I’m sorry I kept the truth from you when you came here. It was wrong of me. But I can’t do anything about it now any more than I could then. It was complicated. It’s always been that way w
ith your Mother.”

  His words aren’t good enough. Standing up from the couch, I pick up the crystal award resting on his desk. An award he took the time to earn. An award he had the time to earn. Yet he had no time for his own daughter. After reading the boasting inscription, I chuck it at the wall. “Sophie!” He yells in surprise.

  “Do you have any idea the fucking hell I’ve lived in all these years? A hell you claim to not have a say in. You could have fought for me. Instead, I was stuck with a Mother I had to be perfect to please and a father who refused to give two shits about me. He drank himself into a stupor every night of the week, his hookers and secretaries littering the living room or the back seat of his car. A real shining example of a parent, Coach. Anything you could have offered me would have been better—anything! But you didn’t once try to see me, speak to me, or come around. And I would have known because I was always holed up in my damn closet searching for an ounce of clarity about why I was even brought into this world in the first place. Everyone hated me—couldn’t stand to look at me.” Tears flow freely out of my eyes. For once I’m not worried about showing my weakness. “You ruined my life and you don’t even care! It’s all about what I can bring to the team—not what I can bring as your daughter. You only want me here because you want to win.”

  His expression changes from surprise into shock. “Sophie, that’s not true.”

  “You know, I applied here as a freshman because I wanted to work with the Coach I worshipped at the school of my dreams. Yet somehow, I was given a rejection letter—my own Father turned me away because life was easier for you as long as you did what she said. I get it now.”

  He rests his elbow on his knee and rubs his fingertips back and forth over the creases in his forehead. He stares absentmindedly at the carpet, like it will provide him with all the answers he’s missing. Finally, he raises his head and the regret shines in his eyes—tears of his own battling with his pride. “I let you down, Sophie. I know I did. But I’ve always loved you and I’ve always cared how you were doing. Your Mother wouldn’t let me near you. I wasn’t even allowed to send mail once you were old enough to know how to read. She was too afraid you’d get your hands on something and start asking questions. She had more to lose than I did. I’ve never married nor had anyone to hide from. But Dean—he threatened the both of us.

  Your mom would bring you to see me at the gym when you were a baby. It was the only way I could see you. Once a month, she risked him finding out so I could see your beautiful face. But he has a lot of power Sophie. And when he discovered what she was doing, he put a stop to it. It killed me to give up our visits, but I was worried about her safety because I knew he drank. She told me pushing to see you would only cause her more trouble. The day you turned one was the last day I held you in my arms. That night was the night the letters started. I couldn’t cry enough, yell enough, be pissed off enough, so I wrote you instead. It’s the only thing that made me feel close to you.”

  “Why did you leave me with him if you knew what he was capable of?”

  “Because I was scared. Scared you wouldn’t love me, or accept me. The same way you were scared I never loved you.”

  “I don’t believe it. I don’t,” I sob. “You’re a grown ass man. One with a career that thrives on molding young minds. Yet you can’t figure out how to approach your own child?”

  “I was scared of him too, I guess. He had the power to destroy my career—to expose my affair with your Mother. I couldn’t lose you and gymnastics, Sophie. I needed it to survive—to keep me sane. I failed at being your Father and I’ll never be able to get back the time we lost, or make up for it. But I’ll pay for it in another life, I’m sure of it.” He opens the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. “These are yours.” He hands me a box.

  “What is it?”

  “Inside you’ll find the letters I wrote on your birthday each year since you were born. I couldn’t physically give them to you, but I celebrated the day you were born every year. I tried giving your mom money every month, but she said Dean would find it or ask questions. Sophie, I may have failed you, but I never forgot you. You’re always on my mind. I’m proud of the young woman you’ve become. You’re strong willed and filled with determination. You’re everything I’ve always wanted my little girl to be.”

  With shaky fingers, I rifle through all twenty letters. Each in colored envelopes with my name scrolled across the front in messy cursive. I wipe away a few tears with the back of my hand. My damp fingers leave prints on the top envelope. “I can keep these?” I don’t know why I want to torture myself by reading them, but I know it’s something I have to do for closure. It’s the only way I’ll know if he’s telling the truth.

  “They’ve always belonged to you.”

  “Then I’d like to sign the papers and leave.”

  Reluctantly, he opens a folder on his desk and rifles through a few papers, signing them by the designated marks before handing them over to me. “I wish you’d reconsider. We could do this together.”

  My mind’s been made up. I’m ready to move on and be done with this chapter of my life. It’s time to focus on school and my future outside of a gym. It’s controlled me for too long.

  I sign my name next to his and can’t help but notice the different last names. I should be Sophie Evans—but I was never given a choice. Never given the opportunity to love my father.

  Laying the pen on the document, I turn around with my box and leave the office without so much as a goodbye.

  Pushing through the doors leading outside as fast as I can, I gulp up the fresh air. I thought it would be a relief to get everything off my chest and out in the open. But now that I have, I realize it will take more than some long overdue words to put me back together.

  Holding my box tightly, I’m trying to process his words yet still find it hard to believe he had no say when it came to me. Why would my mom keep him from me? Especially when Dean hated me so much. And why would she choose Dean over him?

  The next bench I find, I sit and open the box.

  The first letter looks the most worn—like it’s been read over and over. I’m not sure what I’ll find inside the envelopes, or whether it’s all for show—something to make himself feel better about his shitty decisions. But I read the first letter anyway.

  My Beauty,

  A year ago today was the greatest day of my life, the day you came into the world. Although I’m not with you, I carry you in my heart. No matter the distance between us, I’ll always be your guiding light—a protector from afar.

  When you’re scared, think of me. When you’re sad, let me help you. And when you’re lost, I’ll help you find your way. I may never be your hero, precious, but you’ll always be daddy’s little girl. I love you to the moon and back.

  Love, Daddy

  I stuff the letter back into the delicate pink envelope, my favorite color. When I stand up, I notice others staring at me, but I don’t care. Let them look. Fumbling the box in my shaky hands, I almost drop it before regaining my composure. I have to get back to Kipton before he worries.

  Daddy’s little girl. What does that even mean?

  “Hi, Sophie.” I pass Drew in the hallway of my dorm, but I’m wound too tightly to acknowledge him with more than a small wave.

  My door is open, Kipton resting on my bed and Cara watching TV. He sits up and rushes to me when he sees me.

  “Sophie.”

  I give him a pathetic half smile, the words from the letter rattling me.

  “How was it?” He asks cautiously.

  “I’m not sure. Would you both mind giving me some time alone? There are a few things I need to do.” They cautiously look back and forth between each other and then back at me. “I’m fine. But I’d like to be alone.”

  Kipton’s sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing me cautiously. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to break down. He pulls me in between his legs, searching my eyes for clues. He’s always able to read me without a word be
ing spoken. “I have no idea what went on, but don’t let him destroy you. You’ve come too far.”

  “He wrote me, every year. For my birthday. That’s what’s in the box.”

  “Can I see?”

  “I want to read them first. You can see the one I’ve already read.” These are mine. I need to go through them and process each one separately. I don’t think I can handle all twenty of them right now, but I’m too curious not to read another. I’m almost hoping his words changed over the years—became less loving and more resentful. Because after reading the first, it’s harder to hate him. And I need to hate him.

  “Only if you want me too.” I set the box down on the bed and hand him the pink envelope. He watches me as he opens it but shifts his eyes to the paper once it’s unfolded. It only takes him a second to see the words. They haven’t weaved into his soul and wrapped around his heart like they have mine. “Sophie, I don’t know what to say.”

  I take the letter back, nestling it inside the box with its lid. “You don’t have to say anything.” I place the box on my desk. “I need to say something, Sophie. That’s some serious shit.”

  “Maybe that’s all it is—shit.”

  “I don’t think you believe that and neither do I.”

  I almost wish I never saw the words. “I should get my school work done.”

  “You did that over break.” Kipton reminds me.

  “I’m sure I forgot something.”

  “Sophie, you don’t have to look for excuses. If you want me to leave just tell me, but don’t push me away.”

  “I don’t want you to go—but I need to cry.”

  He holds his arms open wide. “Then come let me hold you and cry it out.”

  I willingly walk into his arms. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t always have to be strong, beautiful. I won’t love you less if you cry.”

  I may never stop worrying about losing his acceptance or his love, but right now, I’m holding on to it as tightly as possible. He’s taught me love doesn’t need a motive or an excuse. It can simply exist. His is the most patient kind of love there is.