To Grieve, Learn and Let Go (Pedro Pascal/Joel Miller Inspired Story)

Just One Chance

Everything had come crashing down. My entire life, investing in my education, fighting to survive my medical condition, and saving up every penny to improve my life had all led to this moment—the reading of the Will that shattered my world. My absent father, the one who had abandoned me for so many years, was now being handed the house that my deceased grandparents had bought long before I was even born. The betrayal and shock felt like a tidal wave, drowning me in a sea of emotions. I wondered what else my grandparents had hidden from me, what other secrets lay buried beneath the surface.

My father remained silent as I finished reading the Will. He could sense the anger burning inside me, yet he had more to say, more to inflict on my wounded heart. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear it, but a part of me needed to know what else he had to share with me.

His sigh felt like a gust of wind, closing his hands together as he raised his head to meet my gaze. His eyes bore into mine, and he said, "Mia, I know this was something you didn't expect, but unfortunately, it is all true. Your grandparents wanted to make sure that you were in good hands before your journey to California and starting at UCLA."

His words ignited a fire within me. "In good hands? My grandparents raised me, gave me love, shelter, and care. They made sure I had everything I needed to survive and thrive. I was in good hands with them. I'm well past eighteen, twenty-seven years old, and about to embark on my own journey. I don't need anyone else's 'good hands.'"

"You're right. Your grandparents did raise you. They did a hell of a job, Mia," he admitted. "But your medical condition was their greatest concern, regardless of your age. California's air is not as clean as New York's. The lifestyle, the challenges—it's all different. And under my care, under my roof, I'll make sure that nothing bad happens to you."

His audacity infuriated me. How dare he think he could swoop in after all these years and become my savior? "I've had asthma since I was a child," I retorted. "I've fought countless battles, survived hospitalizations, and missed school days. I know what I'm up against, and I have everything I need to face it. I don't need your protection or your roof over my head. I don't need you."

He winced at my words, but I couldn't stop the torrent of emotions pouring out. "You abandoned me for seventeen years. Seventeen years of wondering why I wasn't enough for you to stay. Now you think you can rekindle a father/daughter relationship? I don't need you to save me. I never did."

The pain in my chest felt unbearable, but I had to stand my ground. He had no right to come back into my life and think he could dictate my choices. "I would rather live in a cramped dorm, face culture shock, and endure whatever comes my way than live with you in that house my grandparents bought for you."

Silence filled our table, heavy with unspoken words and shattered illusions. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hung in the air. My father's expression softened, realizing that his return was not the homecoming he had envisioned.

I turned away from him, feeling the tremors of my emotions slowly subside. "I'll find my own way," I said, my voice tinged with sadness. "I always have."

My father blinked back the tears that threatened to escape from his eyes, but I could see the pain etched on his face. My words had hit their mark, and I could only hope he realized just how deeply his absence had wounded me. The sudden appearance of my father after losing my beloved grandparents had set off a whirlwind of emotions, and the wounds of the past felt raw and fresh once more. The memories he shared of our happy moments together as father and daughter couldn't erase the years of emptiness he had left behind.

The table fell into an uneasy silence, heavy with unspoken emotions. My heart was heavy with conflicting feelings, and I couldn't bear to stay there any longer. "I'm going to use the restroom," I murmured, unable to look him in the eye. Without waiting for a response, I hurriedly left the room.