A week had passed since the argument, and I had not spoken or called Dad, not even a text message. We had both stopped contacting each other, and the silence was deafening. I missed him terribly, I wanted to reach out, but I knew that Mom and Emily were watching my every move, waiting for me to slip up so they could pounce.
As I walked out of school, surrounded by my classmates, I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. I wished I could talk to Dad, to hear his voice, to share my thoughts with him. But I knew I couldn't, not yet. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, trying not to make any mistakes that would give Mom and Emily an excuse to report Dad to the lawyer.
As I approached the entrance of the school, I saw him. Dad was leaning against his car, parked outside, a smile on his face. My heart skipped a beat as I saw him, and I felt a rush of emotions. I had missed him so much, and I couldn't believe he was here, waiting for me.
I ran towards him, my feet moving quickly, my heart racing with excitement. "Dad!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him.
"Hey, kiddo!" he replied, hugging me tightly. "I missed you so much! I've been thinking about you nonstop since we last spoke."
I pulled back, looking up at him, taking in his familiar features. His eyes were warm and loving, his smile genuine. I felt a lump form in my throat as I saw him, and I knew I had to fight back tears.
"I missed you too, Dad," I said, my voice filled with emotion. "I've been thinking about you too."
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other, the tension between us palpable. Then, Dad spoke up.
"Let's get out of here," he said, opening the car door. "Let's go somewhere and talk."
I nodded, getting into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. We drove away from the school, away from the watchful eyes of Mom and Emily, and into the unknown.
As we drove, Dad asked me about school, about my friends, about my life. I told him everything, leaving out no details. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine. He asked questions and made comments, showing genuine interest in my life.
After a while, we stopped at a park, and Dad turned off the engine. We sat there in silence for a moment, looking at each other.
"I'm sorry, kiddo," Dad said finally, his voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry for everything. I know I haven't been the best dad lately, but I promise to do better."
I nodded, feeling a sense of forgiveness wash over me. "I know, Dad," I said. "I love you, no matter what."
Dad smiled, his eyes filling with tears. "I love you too, kiddo," he said. "More than anything. I promise to be there for you, to support you, no matter what."
We sat there for a moment, looking at each other, the tension between us dissipating. I knew that everything was going to be okay, that we would get through this together.
Dad then brought up the topic, asking me about Jake, the boy who usually bullies me. "Hey, kiddo, how's Jake been treating you lately?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern, his brow furrowed with worry.
I thought for a moment before responding, collecting my thoughts and choosing my words carefully. "Actually, Dad, he hasn't come at me again ever since that day you showed up to protect me from them," I said, a small smile on my face, a sense of relief washing over me as I remembered the incident.
Dad's face lit up with a smile, his eyes shining with pride and satisfaction. "That's great to hear, kiddo! I'm glad I could help," he said, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance.
But then I decided to ask Dad the question that had been bothering me for a while, the question that had been weighing heavily on my mind. "Dad, can I ask you something?" I said, my voice hesitant, my heart racing with anticipation.
"Of course, kiddo, what's on your mind?" Dad replied, his eyes locked on mine, his expression encouraging and supportive.
I took a deep breath before asking, my voice barely above a whisper. "Dad, is it really true that you don't care about us?" I asked, needing him to validate me that he does care, needing to hear the words from his own lips.
Dad's expression changed immediately, his face falling, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "What? Who told you that?" he asked, his voice rising, his tone defensive and indignant.
I shrugged, feeling a sense of trepidation, unsure of how he would react. "I just hear things, Dad. And sometimes it feels like you're not really there for us," I said, my voice cracking, my emotions raw and exposed.
Dad's face softened, and he reached out to put a hand on my knee, his touch warm and comforting. "Kiddo, that's not true," he said, his voice filled with emotion, his words dripping with sincerity. "I care about you and your sister more than anything in this world. I would do anything to protect you, to provide for you. I would move mountains and cross oceans to ensure your happiness and well-being."
I looked at him, searching for answers in his eyes, searching for reassurance and comfort. "But why do you always have to go away, Dad?" I asked, my voice cracking, my heart heavy with sadness.
Dad sighed, his expression filled with regret and longing. "I know it seems like I'm always leaving, but it's not because I don't care. It's because I'm trying to provide for you, to give you a better life. And sometimes that means I have to go away for work or to take care of things," he explained, his voice filled with patience and understanding.
I nodded, trying to understand, trying to see things from his perspective. I knew he was trying, I knew he was doing his best.
Dad continued, his voice filled with conviction and determination. "I promise you, kiddo, I am always thinking about you and your sister. I want to be there for you every step of the way. And I will be, from now on. I won't let anything come between us again. I won't let anything compromise our relationship."
I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked at Dad, my heart filled with emotion, my eyes welling up with tears. I wanted to believe him, I really did. And as I looked into his eyes, I saw the sincerity there, the love and concern. I knew he was telling the truth.