He’s here.
It’s funny last time I saw him, I was so hyped up with adrenaline that I didn’t really take him in. Now, in the light of day, I can see him better. The man who abandoned me years ago and sold me out.
He looks so much older than I remember. His face is puffy, his cheeks ruddy with broken veins, and his clothes are hanging off him.
He looks sick, and for a split second, I get it. I get why he couldn’t be there for me. My father was battling his own demons; I was just the collateral damage. Maybe he didn’t want to be like this. Maybe he wanted to be different, but life didn’t give him that opportunity.
My heart breaks, but then I remember he gladly accepted payment from Jamie’s father to ruin my life even though I was free of him. He was willing to destroy me in court and take Ella away from the only family she knows. Not because he was fighting for the truth, but because he needed cash for his next bottle.
No. My father will sell me out without a second thought, and any compassion I have for him needs to be pushed aside.
The girl who was once hurt is gone; in her place stands a woman forged from grit and steel.
Me.
“Tiff.” My father slides into the booth across from me, and I catch a whiff of cologne trying desperately to mask the stale alcohol underneath. “Thank you for meeting me. I wasn't sure you'd come.”
I don't smile. I don't soften my expression. I just stare at him. “You have five minutes.”
“Right. Okay.” He clears his throat, fidgeting with the menu he's not going to order from. “Look, I know things got out of hand with that Nicks situation, but—”
“You took money from Jamie's father.” My voice is flat and emotionless. “You took a bribe to testify against me. To help them take Ella.”
His face flushes, but he doesn't deny it. He can't deny it. “I needed—”
“You needed what? Another bottle?” The laugh that escapes me is sharp enough to cut through flesh. “You sold out your own daughter and granddaughter for drinking money.”
“It wasn't like that—”
“Then what was it like?” I lean forward, keeping my voice low, but sharp. “Explain to me how taking money from the man trying to destroy me in court was anything other than exactly what it looks like.”
He opens his mouth, closes it. What can he possibly say?
“I made mistakes,” he finally manages.
“No.” I shake my head. “You made a choice. You chose money over your family.Again.Just like you always do.”
“We all make mistakes.”
The waitress appears, but I wave her off, not wanting her to hear this. All she’ll see is a groveling father and what looks like an ungrateful daughter. I’m tired of living in a narrative I didn’t create.
“A mistake?” My voice betrays me. There’s a crack in the question. That little sign of weakness will be used against me if I don’t make my position clear. “Just like when you kicked me out when I found out I was pregnant?”
“That was such a long—”
“No. You don’t get to minimize what you did. You left me. You always left me. You could’ve called me anytime. You knew I was at Zach’s house.” I blink back the tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t deserve them. “I would’ve forgiven you and mom, you know? If you had even bothered to speak to me. To meet your granddaughter. I would’ve taken anything you gave me.”
I swallow hard. “But you didn’t, and that’s fine because I’m done begging for a father and only getting you.”
“Tiff—” he starts, but I’m already sliding out of the booth. I’m done with trying to make amends with a family who didn’t want me.
“There’s nothing left to say,Dad.” I pull out a ten and drop it on the table. “Don’t contact me. Don’t show up at the house. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
“But your mother—”
“Your wife,” I correct coldly, “chose you over me a long time ago. I've made my peace with that.”
I turn and walk toward the exit, and this time his voice doesn’t stop me. There's no desperate declaration of love, no pleading. Just silence. Because he knows. He knows exactly what he did, and he knows there's no coming back from it.