I nodded, not sure I could speak at the moment.
Rush and I followed behind Dalton, and I finally had a chance to look around the place. The entryway was large, with two staircases rounding up to the second floor with giant columns on either side. Above us a large domed window filled the area with light, making the entry look even grander. Behind the staircases, we walked through to a sitting room with large windows showcasing a picturesque lake in the background. The fireplace was lit, and a grand piano sat in the corner.
Sitting in one of the high-backed chairs was a man, his brown curly hair showing signs of graying, but other than that looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him.
He stood when we entered the room, his blue button-up and slacks pressed to perfection. His eyes took me in and turned glassy. "Scarlet," he said in a breath. "You're finally here."
I had tried to envision this moment so many times. I'd imagined myself turning my back on him and walking back out the door, and I'd imagined yelling at him and telling him how mad I was at him. I'd also imagined acting indifferent and making little effort to speak to him.
But now as I stood only fifteen feet from him I ran to him, hugging him tightly. "Daddy." And then the tears came. I sobbed and sobbed, and he held me and let me cry. He smoothed my hair down my back and told me how much he'd missed me, how sorry he was, how he had done everything wrong. And we cried together.
Later when I calmed down, I sat down on the couch next to his chair. I wasn't sure when Rush and Dalton had left us, but I was grateful to be able to have some alone time with my dad.
"Scarlet, sweetie." He reached out to grab my hand. "I have so much I want to apologize for and explain. I never meant to hurt you, but that doesn't mean that I didn't. With each decision I made, I fooled myself into thinking that I was protecting you, when really it only ended up hurting you more, and I was too much of a coward to own up to it. I'd told myself I didn't show up for your sixteenth birthday party because I didn't want to make a scene on your big day and that you were probably too mad at me to want me there, but I should have at least come to see if you really did want me to be your escort still.
"And then I stayed away, not reaching out to you because I told myself you probably hated me and that trying to be a father to you and Jackson would be too hard, and I wanted to forget how I'd hurt you. But then every time I saw Jackson, I'd think of you. I'd think about when you were born, when you would wrap your tiny fingers around mine, when you took your first steps, and all those moments would bring on the rest of our memories together. Our many road trips to sporting events, playing car games and talking about whatever team we were going to go see. Staying up late to watch games and yell at the TV. Eating breakfast together while you would quiz me on player stats. Hearing about your day while we ate dinner. And some of my fondest memories were driving to the grocery store to get five different ice cream flavors with more toppings than we could ever eat and your mom being mad at us, saying we still had all the same ice creams and toppings from last time."
I smiled at the memories.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to see the truth, to see that I'd been a horrible father. Too scared to face up to all my wrong and selfish choices," he continued. "As each day passed, I realized that not only had I lost my daughter, but I'd lost my best friend."
More tears slipped down my cheeks.
He squeezed my hand. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking if you can find it in your heart to talk to me on the phone every once in a while, maybe come visit your old man when you have some time off at school, to let me be at least a small part of your life."
Looking into his brown eyes, I could see the sincerity in them. Not that it erased what he did or all the pain I'd felt because of what he'd done and didn't do, but I’d missed him so much. We really had been best friends. I'd lost a father and a friend on the same day.
I removed my hand from his, needing to tell him how I felt. "You really hurt me, Dad. When you didn't show up to be my escort on my sixteenth birthday, I was devastated. We'd talked about that day so many times, and we didn't get to do the special ending we were going to do at the end of our dance. Learning that you and mom had been pretending my whole life was a lot to digest, but I could have gotten through it. But you not showing up that night, made me feel like maybe you'd been pretending with me the whole time too."
"Oh, Scarlet, no. There was never a moment when I pretended to want to spend time with you. Every minute I got to be with you was what helped me keep going. You were the reason I stayed with your mother for so long. I know I didn't treat your mother right, and I regret that. I could have handled things better. I put on the façade for so long because I felt you deserved the happily-ever-after family, even if it was fake. You were the one bright spot in my life."
I blinked back oncoming tears. "Then why did you leave me? You could have divorced Mom and still been in my life. Why did you disappear and replace me with a new family?"
His shoulders slumped and his eyes dimmed. "I wish I had a good answer for you, but I don't. I was scared and selfish. I was ashamed of my choices and that you knew of all my misdeeds. I was afraid to see the look in your eyes that I see in them now. Disappointment. That I was no longer the dad you thought I was and had looked up to and admired. And then each passing day, the guilt would build, and it seemed harder and harder to reach out to you."
He was right. His answer hadn't given me a good reason, but that didn't mean I didn't understand it. I was disappointed in him. He'd let me down, he'd not been there for me, he'd been selfish, all because he didn't want to feel bad about what he'd done.
"Like I said," he continued. "I don't expect you to forgive me."
"Good," I said. "Because I'm not ready to."
He nodded and looked down at the large round rug that covered the main living area.
"But," I added. "That doesn't mean I don't want to try."
His head snapped up to look at me, hope filling his eyes.
With a quiver in my voice I said, "I've missed you, Dad."
And it was true. I'd missed him so much. I didn't think I'd realized how much until I saw him today.
Pulling me into another hug, he said, "I've missed you too, sweetheart."
We stayed in the living room for another hour, just the two of us, and I caught him up on what he'd missed out on in my life over the last four years.
My stomach growled loudly, making my father chuckle. "Why don't we get something to eat? I'm sure Samantha has something wonderful planned for us. She's been looking forward to meeting you. Do you think you are ready for that?"
"I don't think I really have a choice," I said honestly. "This is her home, and since I'll be staying here for a few days, meeting her is inevitable."
