I try my hardest to swallow down a sob, but it escapes my lips nonetheless. “I love you, Daddy,” I cry, a fresh bout of tears running down my cheeks.
Dad sighs and rubs my back gently. “I know, honey. I love you, too.”
He holds me until I’ve somewhat calmed down, and I pull away reluctantly. I almost don’t even want to ask the questions I need an answer to. Maybe if I don’t ask, I can remain in denial a bit longer.
“I’ve known since you were three,” Dad tells me. “I found out much the same way you did, actually. You’d fallen through a glass table we used to have, and you were bleeding so badly that you ended up needing a blood transfusion. I wanted to donate my blood, but I was unable to. I was distraught, initially. But in the end, I realized it didn’t matter. You were my daughter, regardless of whose blood runs through your veins.”
I can’t imagine what might have gone through Dad’s mind the day he found out. He must’ve been so worried for me, and to then find out something this shocking on top of it. If I’m feeling betrayed, how must Dad have felt? Was I a reminder of my mother’s betrayal every time he saw me?
“Why did you… why didn’t you send me to Mom? When she left, why didn’t you tell her to take me too?”
Dad frowns as though the mere idea is ridiculous, and he cups my cheek. “Baby girl, you’re my kiddo, my little girl. Your mom… she was never meant to become a mother. She and I probably never even should have gotten married. I’m not sure how much you even remember of her, but your mother has always been a very unique person. She’s always been very carefree and impulsive, and our marriage was yet another thing she rushed into thoughtlessly. As she does with most things in her life, she ended up getting bored with me, with having a family. I guess the rush and the excitement wore off pretty quickly. I don’t even know who your biological father is. I’ve wondered for years, but I truly don’t know. It’s the one thing she’d never tell me. I thought she might at some point throw it at me during an argument, but she’s remained quiet about who it is. Truthfully, I had no idea she wasn’t faithful to me until the day I found out you weren’t biologically mine.”
Dad sighs and strokes my hair. The way he looks at me makes me feel like a child all over again. “Like I said, baby girl, it doesn’t matter. You’re my daughter, my princess. You always will be, Emilia. I understand if this changes things for you, though. I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I guess part of me was scared of how you’d react once you found out. I was scared that you might leave, that you might want to find your real father. But that is no excuse, Emilia. I’m so sorry for keeping this from you. I had no right.”
I inhale shakily, another tear dropping down my cheek, and I shake my head. “Dad,” I whisper. There’s so much I want to say, but all that comes out of my lips are pained sobs.
I hug him tightly and try my best to calm myself down, to regulate my breathing, so I can say what I need to. “I love you, Dad. This doesn’t change a thing. You’ll always be my dad.”
He tightens his grip on me, as though he’s scared I’ll slip away if he lets me go, and I rub my cheek on his shoulder, soaking his robe with my tears. I couldn’t care less about who my biological father might be. I have no interest in ever finding out. My Dad is enough. He’s never once made me feel like I’m not his real daughter, and that’s all I could ever want.
I can’t imagine what he’s been through in the last couple of years. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have gotten him as my Dad.
Chapter 52
Emilia
I park my dad’s old car in front of our house and sit back. I couldn’t even bring myself to take Carter’s red sports car, the car I’ve come to love so much. He and I haven’t spoken in days, even though he keeps trying to explain himself. Nothing he can ever say will make me feel better. It’s hard enough to deal with the knowledge that my dad isn’t my biological dad. I don’t have the mental energy to deal with his betrayal. I can’t believe he actively tried to keep this from me. If all he’d done was keep his silence, I might’ve understood. But this? I just don’t get it.
I stare at my old house, a thousand memories flashing through my mind. All of my best memories were made here. I don’t even remember much from before Dad and I moved here. I have some vague memories of my mom, but not many. I know I look a lot like her, and I remember she used to take me on unplanned trips and excursions. At the time it was exciting, and I adored her, but in hindsight it just proves what Dad told me, that she was impulsive, and maybe even reckless.
I think back to my childhood and all the times I blamed my dad for not being there, for working too much. I wonder how hard things were for him. I wonder how hard it must have been to deal with my mother’s betrayal. If I was three when he found out, so that means he ended up forgiving her and staying, because she didn’t leave until I was seven. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for my dad, to have his heart broken like that, twice. I wish I could go back in time and treat him better, show him a little more gratefulness. I’ve never lacked for anything growing up. Dad was never very affectionate when I was younger, and his recent playfulness has only really developed in the months since he got his diagnosis, but I always knew he loved me. He was always there for every big occasion, even if he was absentminded or, at times, clueless about what was going on in my life. How hard must it have been for him to have a teenage daughter?
I sigh and get out of the car. I hesitate as I walk to the garden and bite down on my lip. I glance up at the treehouse longingly. I still remember seeing it from my bedroom window on the day we moved into this house. I did then what I’m about to do now. I trespassed.
I’m not as stealthy as I used to be when I was younger, but I still manage to walk up to the treehouse without setting off any of the automatic motion detector lights in the Clarkes garden. The stair steps creak underneath me, the sound familiar and nostalgic. Even after all these years, this is where I go when I’m upset. I walk in, my eyes roaming over the interior. Everything is mostly unchanged, but it’s definitely received an upgrade, because there are now light switches, and a small heater in the corner that definitely didn’t used to be there. I didn’t even notice any of this the last time I was here with Carter, because he was all I could see.
My heart aches as my mind fills with memories of Carter. I still remember being wrapped in his arms, right here, the temperature as low as it is now. I told him this place needed electricity, and specifically, a heater. He told me he’d get it put in for me someday, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s here now because he kept his promise, even though he wasn’t sure if I’d ever return.
I turn the heater on and sit down in the window seat, my eyes on the starry sky. I inhale deeply as my vision begins to blur, and tears start to run down my face. I draw up my knees and drop my head on top of it, relishing in the solitude the treehouse provides me with. I’ve had to be so strong around Dad, because the moment I seem sad, he gets worried. But I’m so tired. So tired of everything. I’m tired of hurting, tired of the pain. I feel terrible for dad too, for everything he’s been through with my mom, for the way I used to lash out at him as a teenager, and for everything he’s going through today. When I came here, I was so certain that him getting better was only a matter of time, only a matter of him finally accepting a kidney donation from me. But now? What are we supposed to do now? I need to call the clinic to discuss our options, and I hate myself for procrastinating, all because I know I’d have to speak to Layla.
I sniff and try my best to stop crying, but I can’t. I’m startled when I feel someone touch my shoulder, and I look up in surprise to find Kate standing next to me, a bottle of wine and two plastic cups in her hands.
She sits down on the floor and pours two glasses of wine wordlessly. She hands me one, her expression blank, and I take it with trembling hands. I raise the cup to my lips and end up emptying it in one go, drinking it as though it’s a shot. Kate doesn’t say anything, instead she just refills my cu
p. I empty that too and smile at her bitterly.
“I apologize for trespassing,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, indicating that it doesn’t matter. I laugh. “I guess it’s fine. I bet seeing me cry like this delights your soul.”
Kate looks hurt for a second and then she sighs. She doesn’t say a thing as she tops my cup up again, and I wish she’d speak up. I wish she’d give me a reason to argue with her.
She takes a sip of her wine and stares at her cup. I sigh and drop my head back to my knees, another tear dropping down my cheek. I sniff loudly, my breath labored. I can’t even breathe properly, because it feels like I’m still crying, even though I’ve tried my best to stop.
“My dad isn’t my real dad,” I say, unable to keep the words in. I glance at Kate and grin. “I bet that just makes your day. I don’t have parents. Not real ones, anyway. My dad, the man that raised me, and the one that’ll always be my Dad, isn’t my biological father. And my mother, the woman that actually gave birth to me, well… she was never a mother to me.”
“I’m sorry, Milly,” she says, her eyes flashing with sympathy, and I hate it. I don’t want sympathy from her.
I laugh, the sound hollow, yet slightly hysterical. “Man, this must be amazing for you. I bet you’re loving every second of this. It gets better, though. You know how I found out? Layla told me.”
Kate’s eyes widen, and for a second I’m certain I see hatred flash through them. “That bitch,” she murmurs, and it startles me so much that I laugh.
“Is she allowed to date Carter, or is he off-limits to her too? I could never tell if you just had a brother-complex, or if your problem was with me specifically. Maybe a bit of both. He’ll probably go back to dating Layla soon enough, so you won’t have to worry about me.”
I empty my cup and hold it out for Kate. She frowns as she refills it for me and then refills her own cup. I sit there, staring at her, hatred and heartache clouding my vision.
“He’s going to die. I’m not a match for him, so I can’t donate my kidney. Your biggest wish is about to come true, Kate. I’m about to end up all alone, with no family, no real friends, nothing. You took the love of my life from me, and now you get to watch me lose everything I have left.”
I take a big gulp of my wine and it burns down my throat, adding to my misery. “I regret it, you know? Even then, I chose you. I chose your health, your family, and Carter’s happiness. What for? All it did was cost me valuable years I could’ve spent with my dad. I spent years feeling fucking miserable and missing Carter, missing my Dad, missing everything I left behind. I convinced myself I did the right thing, but I didn’t. I didn’t owe you shit. I didn’t have to do that for you, and I regret it. I regret it so much. I regret not choosing my own happiness, and I hate you for taking so many years from me.”
I burst into tears all over again and hide my face against my knees. “I hate you so much,” I whisper. “I’ll hate you until the day I die, Kate. I’ll never ever forgive you.”
Kate sighs and strokes my hair gently. “I know, Emilia,” she whispers. “I know.”
Chapter 53
Emilia
Carter stands by the door as I roll my suitcase through the hallway. Dad sighs and looks at me with heartbreak in his eyes. I smile at him as reassuringly as I can. “Just a few days,” I murmur. “I just need a few days.”
Dad brushes my hair out of my face and nods in understanding, his gaze moving from Carter to me. He hasn’t asked me anything about us, but it’s obvious something is wrong. We’ve barely spoken, and though Carter has apologized countless times, none of it makes a difference. A hundred apologies won’t make me feel less betrayed, it won’t unbreak my heart.
His eyes shutter closed in resignation when I walk past him. Graham nods at me and lifts my suitcase into Dad’s old car for me. My heart feels heavy as I drive away.
The roads are so familiar, yet so many years have passed. For a little while I found the intense happiness that I thought was long lost. It almost feels like Carter and I are jinxed. Like we aren’t meant to be together. Every time we find our way back to each other, life tears us apart somehow.
I park in front of my old house and look up at it. It feels both familiar and foreign at once. I haven’t spent a single night here since coming back. I walk up to the door and unlock it, my hand trembling. I close the door behind me and sink to the floor, resting my back against the front door. I pull my knees up and drop my forehead to my knees, my arms wrapped around myself.
I inhale deeply, but my breath is shaky. I can’t help but wonder how Carter could’ve possibly kept something this big from me. How could he have known and never told me? It makes me wonder what else he’s keeping from me. I can understand white lies, but something like this?
I swallow hard and pick myself up from the floor. I walk up the stairs slowly, nostalgia hitting me right in the chest. Fresh tears roll down my cheeks when I open my bedroom door. I stand in the doorway and stare straight into Carter’s bedroom. How often have we stood by our windows, communicating through them? How often have I stood where I thought I was out of view, just watching him?
I sigh and walk to my bed. I sink down on top of it, my mind replaying the memories I’ve made here. How often have I sat in my bedroom despising my dad, when he must have given up so much for me. I’m not even his real daughter, yet he never once made me feel like I might not be. I bet it would’ve been much easier for him to move on with his life had I not been there to chain him to the past. Despite that, he chose me. He cared for me and gave me everything I could’ve ever needed.
I bite down on my lip and sniff, not wanting to cry all over again. I squeeze my eyes closed and inhale deeply. It feels like I lost everything, when I know I haven’t. Carter’s betrayal, finding out I’m not Dad’s real daughter, breaking up with Sam. My entire life feels like it’s in disarray.
When I came here, I knew exactly who I was, where I was going in life. I was going to continue building my career slowly but surely, until I made partner at the firm I was at. I was going to keep dating Sam, until eventually we’d take the next step. My life was so carefully planned out, and it was everything I thought I needed. But in hindsight, none of it made me happy.
Since coming here I’ve rediscovered myself, my happiness, only to be reminded that intense happiness also puts me at risk of intense pain. In London, at least my heart was always guarded. I sigh and lie down on my bed, my eyes shuttering closed.
I miss him. I’m mad at him, but I miss him nonetheless. I miss his arms, and the way his lips feel against mine. I squeeze my pillow tightly, wishing it was Carter instead.
I’m startled out of my thoughts when the doorbell rings. I sit up in surprise and make my way down the stairs, surprised to find a Tupperware box with what looks like dinner in it on my front steps. I pick it up, my eyes darting to the house next door. I can just about see the Clarkes’ front door close, Kate’s hair betraying her. I pick the food up carefully and stare at the note in surprise.
I’m not sure what made you come here or what might be going on, but please have some food. An empty stomach won’t make you feel better. Please take care of yourself.
PS. The food isn’t poisoned
PPS. There’s wine and chocolate cookies for you in the treehouse
PPPS. I promise I wasn’t stalking you, but I saw you from Carter’s bedroom window and you looked a little sad. I won’t bother you. I hope you feel better soon.
The edges of my lips tug up and I stare at the door Kate just disappeared through. I hate to admit that I’m a little touched. I’m not sure what the last couple of years have looked like for Kate, but she seems to have changed. I hope it isn’t just a mirage.
I glance back at my house and then I slip on my shoes and grab some cutlery before making my way to the treehouse, my food in hand. As she said, there are indeed chocolate cookies waiting for me, along with a bottle of wine.
I lift one of the cookies to my lips, my heart twistin
g painfully. Kate likes lemon-flavored things, while Carter prefers rich flavors. I’m the only one that likes chocolate. Helen doesn’t even like chocolate, so why am I holding freshly made cookies?
I sit down on the windowsill, my dinner in my lap and the heater on. I have an entire house to myself, yet I still feel more at home here. My heart aches as I open the Tupperware box to find my favorite pasta in it. Did Helen make this, or was it Kate? Either way, I don’t understand why. Why would they do this? Is this a way to make amends?
I take a bite, and another tear rolls down my cheek. My heart breaks for everything I’ve missed out on in the last couple of years. For everything dad is going through right now. I’ve been so strong for so long, but right now in this moment, it’s too much. I can’t hold on.
I burst into tears with my food in hand, feeling overwhelmed and lost, unsure where I stand with the people I love most, unsure if I even want to stay or go back to the life I so carefully built. Either way, it seems I stand to lose something.
Chapter 54
Emilia
I wake up feeling like I haven’t slept a wink. I kept tossing and turning, overthinking everything. I ended up questioning everything I thought was important. My job in London, my trust in Carter, my dad’s recovery. I feel like I’ve been functioning purely on hope, and it all came crashing down at once.
I sit up in bed, and I notice movement through the window from the corner of my eye. I turn to look into Carter’s window, and my heart skips a beat when I see him walking into his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Did he spend the night at his parents’? I didn’t see him when I went to bed, so he must have come in after I fell asleep. I sit back and watch him for a moment, instantly thrown back to our childhood.
The Ruins Of Us (Mayhem Book 3) Page 21
