The plane lands and my heart drops with it. I’m way more nervous than I thought I was going to be, and I’m having a hard time getting out of my head. I also can’t help but feel like I left my world in shambles back in LA.
But there’s no point thinking about that when I can only focus on one problem at a time right now.
I find Elise at baggage claim, texting on her phone.
“Hey, stranger,” I say, my voice clogging with emotion because I haven’t seen her in almost a year, and I’ve missed her like crazy.
Her wavy brown hair is shorter than when I saw her last, now cut so it rests at the top of her shoulders. Her green eyes—an Edmonson trait we all inherited—sparkle when she sees me, and she jumps up from her chair and rushes over to me. We embrace in a tight hug, and when we part there are a few stray tears in both our eyes.
“I’ve missed you, Becks.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I say, pulling her in for another tight hug. Sometimes it’s hard not to still see the little girl in pigtails who cut my favorite Barbie’s hair because she wanted to be a hair stylist and thought it would grow back. But I can’t deny that the poised young woman in front of me is no longer that little girl. She’s all grown up now, and I couldn’t be prouder of the woman she’s become.
She pulls back, and her warm expression turns cautious and serious. “You ready for this?”
Isn’t that the million-dollar question?
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Me too.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get this over with.”
The ride to the hotel is a blur, my head torn between two unknowns, one awaiting us here in Vegas and the one I left behind. We get checked in, drop off our luggage, and then head back down to the lobby, never really taking a moment to rest. I don’t know Elise’s reasons, but I imagine they’re similar to mine. I have to keep moving, or I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.
We make our way out of the hotel, and after glancing down at her phone, Elise looks around.
“There are some cabs over there,” I say, pointing to a line of yellow taxi cabs.
Elise ignores me, and then her gaze settles on a black town car and she smiles wide. “No need for a cab. That’s our ride,” she says, pointing to the town car, which has to cost way more than a cab.
“Uh, are you sure? Let’s just take a cab. It’s cheaper.”
Once again, she ignores me, making her way to the car, and like the loyal sister I am, I follow her. If that’s how she wants to waste her money, then who am I to stop her?
When we get inside the air-conditioned car, I take a sigh of relief to be out of the oppressive Vegas heat.
“What made you want to rent a town car?”
She doesn’t look at me, her gaze taking in the scenery outside the window as she responds. “It just seemed like a good idea.”
I stare at the side of her head until she closes her eyes and lets out a heavy breath in exasperation. She turns her green gaze toward me and takes in my disbelieving expression.
“Fine. I didn’t want us to have to deal with following directions in an unfamiliar place or stressing out about getting lost, or worse being too emotional to drive, depending on how things turn out. So that meant renting a car was out, and cabs aren’t always reliable, so this just seemed like the best solution.” She pauses, and a coy smile lifts her lips. “Besides, I got a hell of a deal, and it’s hardly costing me a thing.”
“If you insist.”
“I do,” she says and then leans forward to give the driver the address to our dad’s house.
The wheels roll underneath us as we pass the sights of the strip where we’re staying and head toward Henderson where my dad lives. The air conditioning blows through the car, sending goosebumps across my arm and juxtaposing the suffocating heat I know waits outside the comfort of our vehicle. The tan terrain passes us by, and if I loved brown, I could find it beautiful. But there’s something so desolate about it that I find myself missing the blue of the ocean I can see from my condo.
“Are you nervous?” Elise whispers next to me.
Turning to her, I see her looking out at the landscape just like I was. “I think we’d be crazy not to be. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him.”
“Do you think he ever thinks of us?” she asks, turning her gaze from the view outside to meet mine. There’s a tension around her eyes that I’m sure matches my own.
“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”
Before I’m ready, the driver turns into a residential neighborhood. My body tenses, and my blood heats as I watch house after house become bigger and more gorgeous the farther into the neighborhood we go. With two more turns, the driver slows in front of a stucco house with a rounded clay tile roof. There’s a beautifully landscaped lawn, palm trees, and a three-car garage. Elise and I both stare out at the house that’s probably more than three times the size of the small house we lived in after our dad left us.
I fight back the rage that’s threatening to curdle my blood. He left us in poverty and has been living a life of luxury this whole time?
What the actual fuck?
Elise turns to me, her expression unsure but fortitude in her gaze. She looks back out the window, takes a deep breath, and then opens the door and steps out.
“I can do this,” I whisper to myself, while also wishing I had asked Trent to come with me. That I hadn’t been so scared that I let my crazy get the better of me. The resolve to fix things with him moves swiftly through me, and I’m more determined than ever to make things right for good with him.
No matter what happens with my dad today, I’m done running away from my fears and letting my insecurities rule my life.
I open my own door, slide out, and then walk around the car until I’m standing next to Elise, both of us staring at this house with dismay, and a slew of other emotions far too complicated and long-buried to name in this moment.
With a deep breath, I walk toward the door, carefully placing one foot in front of the other and fighting every instinct in my body telling me this is a bad idea. It’s time to face my dad.
I stop at the front door and feel more than see Elise stop next to me. My gaze is locked on the door, my vision so focused on what could be on the other side that I can’t even turn to look at my sister to see how she’s feeling.
“This feels like a slap in the face,” she says, her voice scratchier than it was in the car, and I know she’s fighting back angry tears. “Mom deserves a house like this, not Dad.”
“She has a house like this, thanks to Will.” My brother bought our mom a nice house in Austin when he got his first big signing bonus.
“Maybe this was a mistake.”
I break from my stare off with the front door and turn a sharp eye to my sister. “You’re having second thoughts.”
It’s not a question.
“Aren’t you? I mean, look at this? He’s clearly not lacking for anything and yet he’s never reached out to either of us.”
I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’ve come too far to turn back now. We need to see this through and then be done with him for good. We’re strong, and we deserve to have this conversation with him. Even if it’s just seeing him face-to-face and getting the closure we deserve.”
She stares at me for a few blinks before nodding her head swiftly, turning toward the front door and ringing the doorbell. We can hear the loud chime from out here as well as a dog barking somewhere inside the house. A man shouts at the dog to be quiet; my heart speeds up, and my stomach tightens painfully. Nerves make my hands clammy, but I don’t even have time to wipe them on my shorts before the door opens, and he’s standing there in front of us.
I’ve seen his picture enough times to recognize him, although he’s grayed to the point of salt and pepper now. He’s still in decent shape for his age and wears a pair of khaki shorts and a light blue golf polo.
He smiles at us both, his eyes lighting up, but not in recognition. “Can I help you lovely ladies?”
Elise opens her mouth to speak, but her eyes are wide, and I think she might be slightly in shock because she doesn’t get any words out. I step forward and stick my hand out. “I’m Becka and this is Elise. We’re your daughters.”
His smile vanishes instantly, and his gaze turns questioning as he now appraises us like he’s trying to figure out why we’re standing at his front door.
Frankly, I’m starting to wonder the same thing.
He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at us. “What are you girls doing here?”
“We were hoping we could talk to you,” Elise says, finally finding her voice.
“About what?”
She swallows and glances at me, unsure, before facing our dad again. “We have some questions. Do you have a minute?”
“Now’s not a good time.”
“It won’t take long,” I say. “We don’t have any intention of sticking around, but I think after over twenty years of being a deadbeat dad, we deserve a few minutes of your time.”
He glares at me but doesn’t say anything, and after what feels like an eternity, he takes a step back and gestures inside. I walk in, my head held high and my shoulders back like my hands aren’t shaking with nerves. Elise follows me, and we head into his living room. My jaw drops when I see how nice the inside of his house is.
From the foyer, we can see what looks like a formal living room with a beautiful chandelier. Down the hall, I can see part of the kitchen and what looks like high-end stainless steel appliances and white-and-gray marble countertops. Everything is spotless, and while I’ve seen fancier houses in California, this is still so much more than I had growing up. I’m having a hard time reconciling the fact that my dad left us in poverty and has essentially been living a life of luxury, even if he’s probably only solid upper-middle class. I’m having trouble catching my breath, but like hell I’m going to let him see me as weak.
“So what’s this about?” he asks, joining us in the living room and gesturing for us to take a seat.
Elise and I look to each other as we sit down, and it’s clear from the shocked and saddened look in her eyes that she still held out hope that this would be a happy reunion.
I held no such expectations.
“We have some questions for you,” I say, ready to move things along.
His eyes turn to slits as he watches us carefully. “What kinds of questions?”
“Why did you leave?” Elise spits out in one quick breath that I’m pretty sure she holds waiting for his answer.
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, his stare still calculating. “Because I wanted to.”
That…was not the answer I was expecting.
I was expecting him to say some bullshit like he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood, or he needed a change, or he freaked out, but to hear that he left simply because he wanted to feels like the biggest slap in the face yet. A glance to Elise and her parted mouth, wide eyes brimming with tears and heartbreak written all over her face, tells me that wasn’t the answer she was expecting either.
“Did you ever think about what we—your kids—might want? That we might want our dad around?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Your mom could handle you. She’s the one who wanted kids anyway.”
“You didn’t want kids?” Elise’s voice cracks, and I wish I could shield her from his venom.
“Of course not. Kids were never in the cards for me. I tried it because I loved your mom, but after we had the last one, I knew that wasn’t the life I wanted.”
The last one, like he doesn’t know that Elise is his youngest child—or I hope she is his last child. God knows what he’s gotten up to in the last twenty-two years.
Elise stands up abruptly, a torrent of tears cascading down her face. “I’ve heard enough,” she says, her voice hollow, and then storms out of the house. I watch her go, knowing I’ll follow shortly, but I have a few more questions and I never want to see this man again, so I need to make this visit count.
“You said you loved my mom, but you still left.”
“I did.”
“Why did you leave her if you loved her?”
I hold my breath waiting for his response. Somehow it feels like his answer will unlock the truth about why men have always found it so easy to leave me. Or it might explain my need to leave them as soon as my insecurities get the better of me, something I wasn’t even fully aware of until I started therapy—although it didn’t stop me from having that knee-jerk reaction with Trent yesterday. Once again, the need to fix things with him surfaces as I face the man who made me this way.
“Because, as it turns out, I didn’t love her. I wasn’t willing to give up the life I really wanted for the one she wanted, so I left. She wanted you kids. I didn’t.”
“You only ever loved yourself,” I say, my own voice coming out soft while my brain wraps around his response.
He shrugs. “If you want to look at it that way, sure. But I have no regrets. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear, but I’m living the life I want.”
“I just wanted the truth. Thank you for your time.” I don’t bother with other pleasantries because there’s no point. He has no regrets, so neither will I. I stand up and walk out of his house, closing the door tightly behind me.
I lean against the wall beside the door for just a minute, closing my eyes and attempting to catch my breath and control the barrage of emotions. Despite how little time we spent with him, I think I got exactly what I needed from him.
It was never about me not being enough.
He simply wasn’t enough.
He wasn’t man enough to be there for his wife and kids.
He wasn’t man enough to own his responsibilities.
He wasn’t man enough to be a dad instead of simply a sperm donor.
But none of that was my fault.
Feeling my heart steady as I get the closure I was so desperate for, I open my eyes, and my breath immediately catches in my throat when I see the most beautiful pair of blue eyes staring back at me in concern.
“Are you okay? I was two seconds away from storming the house after the way Elise flew out of there crying.” His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me against his chest, and I’m convinced I have to be dreaming. Trent can’t actually be here right now, can he? The steady thrum of his heart lulls me into the safety of his embrace, and tears of relief prick my eyes. I didn’t mess it up. He’s here for me, even after I tried to break up with him in a fit of crazy insecurity. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold him as close as I can. I love this man so much. I can’t believe I almost lost this.
For the first time since our relationship started, a true sense of peace washes over me. This is real. This is love. Trent wants me—he’s made that abundantly clear. And I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life.
“You won’t leave me,” I whisper on a soft sigh, my body suddenly feeling light and free.
Trent pulls back, frustration clear in the furrow of his brow. “I’ve told you I’m not going anywhere. You can push me away all you want, but I know you don’t mean it. I love you, Becka. You’re it for me.”