“Becca.” His voice took me back to every memory, every moment. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, holding his arms out to hug me. “I’ve missed you.”
I didn’t move.
His arms dropped to his sides.
“I live close by,” I said quietly.
His eyebrows crinkled together. It made him look older. “What?”
I cleared my throat. “I live a few streets away. If you really missed me that much, you could have tried to visit.”
His face fell. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Then he smiled and said, “You’re so grown up. You look just like your mother.”
And that was it. Five years of being absent had led to an uncomfortable conversation between two people who no longer knew each other.
All I wanted was to be around my real family now. Around my mom and Brett. Around Cassie. Around the people who had never let me down.
“I’m not here to repair our relationship. I don’t want you in my life, Dad.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. It felt wrong because “dad” wasn’t just a title. There was so much meaning behind it. Meaning that no longer applied to him.
I thought it was impossible for him to look any sadder than he did right then. “I don’t understand. Then why are you here?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and then I said the words that had been stuck somewhere between my heart and my head for far too long. “I’m here to forgive you. I spent the last five years living with this weight inside of me. A weight that’s there because of you. I tried to forget you. I tried to press the thought of you down until you were nothing but a distant memory and for a while, I thought it worked. . . . But now I’m falling in love. And that made me realize just how much damage you did to my heart.
“I can’t live with this pain anymore. I can’t carry around this sadness because it’s stopping me from being the person I want to be. I . . . I can’t be that person if I still hate you.” I whispered the last part. Even after everything, it still broke my heart to say these words that would break his. “I forgive you for leaving us.”
“I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness,” he whispered.
“You don’t. But I’m giving it to you anyway.”
We were silent for a moment. I realized it had begun to rain. It was a drizzle, a few drops landing on my shoulders. Not loud enough to hear, but faint enough that you couldn’t ignore it either.
“You’re falling in love?” he asked.
“I am,” I said, wiping a tear off my cheek, “and it’s greater than any book I ever read.”
Suddenly, I wanted to continue. I wanted to tell my father all about Brett and the way he made me feel. I wanted him to know everything and my heart burned for the man I used to look up to. But I had to remind myself that man was gone. The person standing in front of me was not the father I had known five years ago, and he had lost the right to know about my life the night he walked out the door.
I began to walk away, back down the steps, and then I stopped. There was one last question I needed an answer to. “Was it worth it?” I asked, turning around. “Leaving us for this new life. Was it worth it? Are you happier?”
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” he said.
That was all the answer I needed.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
The walk down the driveway felt like miles. It was raining now, pouring down and soaking through my clothes. I stopped, turned my face to the sky, and let the water wash the past off me. The memories and the pain and all those questions that had held me down like an anchor—I stood there and smiled as they washed away. And for the first time in years, it felt like that constant weight pressing down on my chest was gone. I could breathe freely.
I started to run then, down another familiar route. This time I ended up at Brett’s house. I was soaking wet when I knocked on the door and I couldn’t stop smiling. I felt so happy. So normal.
When Brett pulled open the door, I jumped into his arms. I grabbed his face and I kissed him because now I wanted to move into the future with him.
I was laughing when our faces parted. “Hi,” I said.
He was smiling, sun after a rainstorm.
“Hi,” he said back. Then we both realized it was still raining and the door was wide open. Brett pulled me inside. “Let me get you a towel.” He disappeared down the hall and jogged back, towel in hand. He wrapped it around my shoulders, rubbed his hands up and down my arms.
“Brett!” a voice called from the other room. His mom. “Who’s here?”
“Becca!” Brett yelled back. Then he turned toward me. “You wanna watch a movie with us?”
I told him yes, there was actually nothing I’d like more than that.
We walked into the living room and his mom was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. The television was paused but I was staring at the man sitting beside her. It was Brett’s father. I quickly glanced at Brett, studying his face for some hidden trace of anger. But he was smiling, and he seemed genuinely . . . okay.
“Dad,” he said, slipping his arm around my waist, “this is my girlfriend, Becca.”
I shook his hand in a daze. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said. He had the exact same eyes as Brett.
“You too, Mr. Wells.”
I sat next to Brett on the couch. His mother clicked play on the remote and the movie began. Minutes had passed before I turned to him and whispered, “Brett?”
He tilted his head toward mine. “Yes?”
I looked at his parents, then back to him. “Is this okay?” I whispered.
He nodded, squeezed my hand. With the smallest of smiles, he said, “I think so.”
Brett’s backyard had a swing chair. It had a lot of cool stuff. Like a shiny metal table set, couches with overstuffed pillows, and even a fancy fireplace with blue flames. But my favorite was the swing chair. I liked the way it rocked back and forth when Brett pushed his feet off the ground.
It had stopped raining, and we wandered outside after his parents left, announcing they were going out for dinner. Now we were sitting on this chair while the sun set in front of us. That was another one of my favorite parts of his backyard: the view. There were no houses or buildings to see, just this far stretch of land that eventually turned into trees. It made the sunset look even more spectacular.
Usually, sunsets were gradual. Slowly the sky turned yellow, then pink, then orange before it all became black. Not tonight. Tonight, the sun set like someone hit the fast-forward button. The sky was blue one second, then blinding orange the next.
I don’t know why I was so obsessed with the sky. Maybe it was the idea of a new day, a fresh start. Or maybe I just liked the way it looked. Not everything had to have some big meaning behind it.
When the sky was black, Brett said, “My dad’s going to start staying here again.” Then he pulled me closer until my back was to his chest. He was wearing a gray hoodie that smelled just like him. “And I got my essay back from Miss C. Got a B plus, thanks to you.”
“It wasn’t all me,” I said.
I thought about telling Brett what I did today, visiting my dad, before deciding not to. For some reason, I wanted to keep that little piece to myself.