Playing Wright

Chapter 5: Long Lost Dad

Kyle...

I stood there, staring back at a face that looked like mine. The face that I swore I would punch the day I saw it in person. I was looking forward to this day, dreaming of it even. I knew exactly what I was going to say and the exact spot on his face I was going to connect my fist to.

His brows raised in surprise when I said his name.

"You know who I am?" He asked, seeming happy about it.

"Of course I do," I said dryly.

After my mom told me why he wasn't around, I made up my mind that I didn't want to talk about him ever again. But as I grew older, curiosity reared its head and I eventually asked my mother for a name. I searched it online and there he was, grinning widely with his wife and the son he apparently wanted.

"What do you want?" I asked.

I had a feeling I already knew. I've always heard stories of deadbeats showing up when their kids make it and had money. But, he wouldn't need my money...well shouldn't.

"I came to see you," he answered.

"Obviously," I said. "But why?"

"I want to talk to you," he said.

"Oh, now you want to talk? Now you chose to come see me?" I asked voice raised.

He looked around nervously for bystanders.

"Can we talk about this inside?" He asked.

I didn't want this man anywhere near me, or in my apartment, but he did come all this way, and a part of me still wanted to hear him out.

I stepped aside and allowed him in, his bodyguard stayed outside. I closed the door and turned to him.

"So?"

He looked around the apartment nervously. "This is a nice place you have here," he said, probably trying to buy some time before he came up with whatever nonsense he had to say.

"Yeah, it is," I said. "Now can you please tell me why you're here?"

I was aware that I sounded cold, but I needed him to know that we were not on good terms.

He took in a deep breath before starting. "For years I've been thinking about what I would say when this day came. I even had a whole speech written out and now I forgot everything I had in it," he looked frustrated and angry at himself. "I guess I should start by saying I'm sorry. I did a bad thing to you and your mother, and it was unacceptable."

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. Was an apology all I ever wanted? Sure. But how did I know it was real?

"I know you probably have a lot to ask, so I'll let you. I'll be honest about everything, I promise."

He had promised my mother that he would be there for her but never was. I wasn't sure his promises were something I could trust.

"Ok," I said, ready to ask the question I've been wanting the answer to for years. "Why?"

I didn't have to specify the action, he already knew.

"I was young, wasn't ready, and had everyone in my ear telling me it would look bad for our family and my future. I was weak-minded and gave in," he answered.

"Did you ever regret it?"

"Every day since the day I broke things off with your mother. But I tried to convince myself that I did the right thing."

He didn't sound like he was lying, but I still didn't know if I could believe him. That's all his fault though. He was never around, how was I supposed to develop that trust?