Page 83 of Actually Yours

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down. “To a sixteen-year-old, that must have looked like a simple decision. But it wasn’t. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

My eyes sting. “It didn’t seem that way. Especially after you met Penelope and started a new family. That seemed to come pretty easy to you.”

“It may have appeared that way, but one thing did not equal the other. In your mind, my leaving and my marriage to Pennyare linked, but it was two years after I left your mother that I started dating Penny. Two. Years. I was broken when I left.”

I stare at him, disbelieving. “Mum told me you left us to be with her.”

He gasps. “That’s just not true, Millie.” My heart squeezes at my nickname coming from him. “I sent you an invitation to the wedding. You know it was after you turned eighteen. You know how much I wanted you to be there, to be a part of our lives.”

My knee bounces under the table, anxiety sky-high. “That’s not how it happened.”

He shakes his head sadly. “It is. When I left your mother—not you, your mother—she asked me to give you space. She said you were angry and didn’t want to see me. So, I did what I thought was best. But I wanted to reach out. You have to believe me.”

Looking at him, at his gutted expression, I think I do.Had my mum been lying to me?

“So, you wanted to see me? To be a part of my life?”

“More than anything. I tried with the wedding invitation, but I never heard back. I thought maybe it was too soon, maybe you needed more time and space. But then when you ignored all my calls and the birth of your step-sister, Juliet, I resigned myself to the fact that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Instinctively I reach over and take his hands in mine. “I never got your wedding invitation, and I think maybe mum intercepted some of your phone calls, because I don’t remember receiving any of them. All I knew was that you were married and had a new family. That you didn’t have any need for me.”

My voice trails off as tears fall down my dad’s cheeks, unchecked.

“Amelia, I’ve wanted you from the minute the stick turned blue and I knew I was going to be a dad. I should have tried harder to get in touch, to be a part of your life. I thought I was doing the right thing, staying away.”

Regret courses through me at these words. Almost a decade has passed where we had believed the worst in each other, when we could have had a proper relationship.

“Can you forgive me for not trying harder? For not being there when you needed me the most?”

My own tears fall in sync with his. “I still need you,” I whisper, because it’s true. I think I need him now more than ever.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me now.”

My laugh is watery and I squeeze his hands, which are still in mine. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to have a relationship with you. I guess I let Mum’s feelings about you colour my own.” And it’s true, he’s always been the villain in my story when I should have known that in real life, nothing is black and white. Nothing is just purely good versus bad.

“I don’t blame you, and I don’t even blame your mother. She was angry after I left and then she was terrified you’d leave her as well. She wanted to keep you close, I know that.”

He’s feeling more generous towards my mum than I am. The two of us are going to need to have a heart-to-heart, and soon, because this sort of behaviour needs to end now. I’m done with the toxicity.

“Can I ask why you reached out now? What made you ask for this meeting?”

He smiles, a sweet smile. “Penny’s been dying to get to know you and with another baby on the way, it just felt like it was time. You have two sisters who know all about you, who look at pictures of you on Instagram and already idolise you. I didn’t want to bring another child into the world knowing our relationship was so fractured. So, I messaged. And you replied. Thank you for that.”

Thinking back on the emotional toll it took just to agree to this meeting, I’m grateful that my friends pushed me to do it.To face this conversation and find the answers to so many of the questions that have plagued me for so long.

“I didn’t want to meet up with you,” I admit with a small smile. “But I realise that our relationship has coloured the way I’ve entered all my relationships with men. And I wanted to fix that.”

He looks stricken. “I did that?”

“It wasn’t just you,” I reassure him. “Mum played a big part. And I have to own my share of blame in it. All I know is that deep down I never felt worthy of anything real, because I thought that if my own father didn’t want me, then no one else would.”

My dad stands up so fast, his chair tips over behind him. People around us stare, but he ignores them all, reaching for me and pulling me to him. “I’m sorry I did that to you, that you ever felt for one minute that you aren’t worthy of love. You’ve been loved by me for every second of your life, even the seconds we were apart. I love you, Amelia.”

I hold on to him tightly, pressing my face against his chest, breathing in his long-forgotten scent, and my tears fall. The pressure loosens in my chest and I revel in letting go of all the pain, the rejection, the idea of not being good enough. My dad loves me, he’s always loved me. Now it’s just time to find our way forward.

“Thank you.” I sit back, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

“Thank you,” he repeats, picking up his chair and sitting down again.

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