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It certainly wasn't being in love; I knew that much.
When it came to that, I'd spent more time being sad than anything else.
My body had been scrutinized and degraded to the worst possible degree by someone who I believed had loved me. I'd been called ugly and pathetic. Had stood in front of a mirror countless times, falling into hate with myself, wondering what I'd done to make him hate me overnight.
I gotten pregnant by a man who would've been more content to see me die than bear his child. He hated me that much.
Just like I'd told Aaron, I could only feel my pain. And fuck if I didn't feel it so deeply.
I felt it so much that being called beautiful automatically made me distrust someone. I was too far gone. The damage that had been done to me could not be reversed. It was ingrained deep in my head and in my heart and, dare I say, in my fucking soul.
And yes, while Aaron had been the only one to ever get through to me like a fucking storm, it didn't mean that I should subject him to doom by being with me.
I picked up the pieces of my broken heart and made for the fourth floor. By now, news of Jade's deceit had spread, and the stares I got as I walked down the hallway to my office were even worse than those I'd been getting.
When I reached my desk, a quick glance at my watch told me it was a little past five. I risked a glance toward Aaron's office, and a fierce wave of sadness overwhelmed me when I was met with absence.
Sighing, I grabbed my bag and headed out. Today had been chaotic, and all I wanted to do was go home, have a deep soak, and play Jungle Justice. I'd had enough of reality.
I had thought exposing the person behind the leak would give me some sort of satisfaction, but it didn’t.
The bus ride to my apartment took over thirty minutes. I pressed my forehead to the window with a deep sigh. My mind was mostly numb, and it didn't register that we had reached my bus stop until a movement from the corner of my eyes drew me out of my reverie.
I alighted, thanking the bus driver quickly. My apartment building came into view, and I walked in, heading for the stairs. The building's elevator was out of order, and the repair was delayed.
I didn't mind. I needed the exercise anyway. My apartment was on the third floor, and I'd just stepped into the hallway when I caught sight of a figure leaning against the wall next to my door, his head lifted to the ceiling.
I stopped in my tracks, blinking. I had to be hallucinating. Never before had this happened in the years I'd been living here. What was he doing here?
My foot moved one in front of the other until I was sure this wasn't a hallucination. Jesus. He was really here.
His eyes snapped to me at the same time I opened my mouth.
"Dad?"
twenty-five
Stephen
Many times in my life, I'd taken immense pleasure in making men of great height and strength cower in my presence. After all, that was what this business entailed. It was cut-throat. Kill or be killed.
But never in a million years would I have imagined that the person I would cower in front of would be my daughter.
I straightened, watching her as she neared me with weary steps, her eyes narrowed. I knew she must have been wondering what I was doing here, and if I were being honest, I wasn't quite sure myself.
But in the last twelve hours, I'd had a lot of time to contemplate. So much had gone wrong, so much that could have been prevented, and I wanted to make it right.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
“Is it really that weird that a father would come to see his own daughter?”
She sighed, stopping in front of her door next to me. “Dad, please. I don’t want to fight, and even if I did, I’ve had a very shitty day, and I just want to rest.”
She did look tired.
"I just want to talk," I told her, raising my hands in the universal sign of surrender. "No fighting. Just talking."
Her eyes were still narrowed, and it was a long second before she finally nodded and unlocked her door. "Come in."
