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“Nobody knew,” Dad says. “Benji has been dealing with my partner. But that’s not why I came, not really.”

“Then why the fuck are you here, Mr. Hayes?” Thorin barks. His indignation is becoming more palpable. I put my hand on his chest, and briefly look down at Eli. Thorin catches the hint pretty quickly, and without a word, gives Eli to me. My dad watches the exchange with a curious gaze. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother, and his wife,” he tells Thorin. “I gave your mom a call on the drive from Dallas.” He’s been in Dallas all this time? That’s only three hours away!

Thorin’s hands ball into fists at his sides. “What business do you, of all people, have calling my mom?” That one has me stumped too.

“Why don’t we start with why I’m really here,” he replies. “I came to see my daughter—”

“What gives you that right?” Thorin snaps, cutting Dad off. Before Dad can respond, I look up at Thorin. “It’s okay, babe.”

“No, Reese, it’s really not.” His eyes blaze a brilliant blue, and that only happens on two occasions—when he’s turned on, and when he’s really, really pissed. I’m guessing he’s not turned on right now. “Yes, it is.” I look at my dad, and notice for the first time how tired he looks. “Can we talk?” He asks me. “In private?” I mull it over, and find that I’m clutching Eli to my chest like he’s a life jacket. Have I ever thought about what it would be like to see my parents again? Of course I have. What I didn’t plan for was for them to be another trigger, and that’s incredibly stupid and naive on my part. But for all that he’s done, for his flaws, and his mistakes, I do want to know the reason my dad is here now, after so many years of nothing.

“We can talk at my place,” I reply. I can tell neither Thorin, nor Mya are pleased by this idea. Even Fletch looks unhappy about it.

“Reese, I don’t think—” Thorin starts to whisper in my ear, but I stop him.

“I think I-I need to do this.”

His plea for me not to do it is there, in his eyes, in his body language, and as much as I want to heed his silent entreaty—he’s only doing it because he cares, I know this—I feel like it might be the right thing to do, even if my dad ends up hurting me. And yes, it’s going against what I told Thorin the first time we spoke about my parents, that it is better I don’t hear from them, but I know if I were to turn my dad away, after he came to me, I’d regret it. Probably.

I stretch onto the balls of my feet, and kiss Thorin. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be right next door.”

I expect him to stop me, but instead, he takes Eli from me, and walks out the kitchen. He can be angry all he wants, but he’s not in my shoes right now. I’ll talk to him about it later, but first, I need to talk to my dad. Mya stomps out of the kitchen without looking at me, and so does Fletch. I don’t expect them to understand, but I do expect them, as my friends, to respect my decisions. Dad follows me back to my house, and I immediately make us some coffee. Idle hands and all that. All the while, I’m aware of my dad’s presence in my home, aware of how he’s looking around and taking it all in.

“Nice place you got here,” he says, carefully sitting down at my kitchen island. He looks as ready to bolt as I feel. I pour his coffee, add some sugar and milk. “You remember how I drink my coffee.” I didn’t even think about it, it was as automatic as breathing. I lean against the counter, keeping a safe enough distance. Like it’ll make a difference. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

He purses his lips, inhales deeply. “I don’t really know where to start.” He looks at me. “I guess it’s too late for an apology.” Do I even want him to apologize? I’m not sure. My head and my heart are running a mile a minute, but in opposite directions. Rationale, and emotion are at war, and I’m struggling to choose which one to follow. A thought occurs to me, both horrifying, and disconcerting. “Is Mom with you? Because if she is—”

“Your mother and I are divorced, Reese. It’ll be nine years in June.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. What do I say to that? Good for you? When did you grow a backbone? It’s about damn time?

Nothing will suffice, so that’s what I go with. Silence.

“Shortly after you left,” he says. “Losing you, it was just too much.”

His words give life to mine, and I go from mute to furious. “Losing me?” I huff, indignation heating my blood, making it pump through my veins faster and faster. “You never lost me, Dad. You signed those papers and gave me away.” In my mind, I know that’s not entirely true, but it doesn’t take away from the abandonment I felt. Yes, I wanted the emancipation, but my dad didn’t even fight for me.

“It’s what you wanted, Reese, and it’s the least I could have done after what your mother put you through.” His face twists, his expression fraught with pain. “I also knew getting away from her was the best thing for you.”

“Like you cared,” I snap. “You allowed her to do those things, to say those things. You never stopped her, and how does that make you any better than she was?”

Dad pushes his coffee away, and stifles a sob with his hand. “I made some terrible mistakes, and I will live with them for the rest of my life, but signing those papers was not one of them. It was the only way I could get you away from your mother, and the poison she filled your head with.” Dad’s cheeks are wet with tears, and there’s an uproar of emotions building in my chest, each of them individually unnamable but together they’re noise. Loud, deafening noise that I don’t know how to break down, and deal with.

“She told me I was unlovable.” I’m saying the words, but it doesn’t sound like me. “She starved me for days on end, and told me how much she hated how I looked. She said I was fat, all the time, and not once did you tell her to stop.”

“I know,” he chokes out, his shoulders shaking. “And I regret that, every day. I’ve regretted that, and everything I didn’t do to protect you, from the moment you were gone.”

God, what a mess. And what terrible timing. Just when things were going right, this man had to show up and what, seek forgiveness? I don’t know what to do with that, or with whatever’s going through my head. The memories, the most brutal moments of my childhood rear their ugly heads, and one by one, they slice me open.

“Then tell me, Dad, what do you want from me?”

“A chance,” he replies, wiping his face. “A chance to make things right, and start over. I miss you, sweetheart. I’ve missed you every day since you left, and not a day goes by that I don’t wish I’d done things differently. I failed you.”

It’s the I failed you that cracks my chest wide open. So wide, I’m sure if I looked in the mirror I’d be able to see my heart beating, bleeding, yearning. The first trickle of something slides down my cheek, but I wipe it away. Am I willing to give him another chance? I was quick to preach about forgiveness to Thorin, not even an hour ago, and yet I’m so torn, so very torn between protecting myself, and giving my dad a second chance. He stands, and walks around the counter. I’m compelled to step away, slam that wall in place, but my feet won’t move. They’re not listening to my brain, but instead, they’re listening to my heart. Carefully, and with slight hesitation, my Dad wraps his arms around me, and holds me, his embrace gentle the way a dad’s should be. My rigid posture, my heart’s warning to be cautious, doesn’t deter him. He kisses the top of my head, steps back, meets my gaze. “I’m going to be in town for a while, staying at the inn. I’ll give you all the time you need, but please think about it.” With that, he turns around, and walks out.

Two hours later, Thorin finds me in the bath, the water turned cold. I’d been planning on having a quick shower before getting my day started, but a bath, and time to think, seemed a better option after my dad walked out. Guess I lost track of time. “Jesus,” Thorin mutters, pulling me from the water. “You’re freezing.” He wraps me in a towel, and dries me off. “What happened? What did he say?”

I look up at him, and spill my guts with a single sentence. “I’m a fraud.”