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The door buzzed again, and my dad stepped through, tall and broad-shouldered like always. His muscular frame made him stand out in the room full of inmates, the years spent playing rugby still visible in the way he carried himself. His dark brunette hair had grown out a bit since I last saw him.
His arms, strong and tanned, were covered in tattoos—each one telling a piece of his story. My name, Blair, stood out on his forearm, bold and in delicate script. It had always been my favorite, a reminder that no matter what, I was still his little girl.
"There's my princess," he said with that same wide grin, pulling me into a hug. His embrace was warm and familiar, despite the coldness of the room.
"Hi, Dad," I smiled as we sat down at the table. The chair creaked under his weight, making him look even more out of place in the sterile room. His hazel eyes gleamed with warmth, a stark contrast to the environment we found ourselves in. There was always this tension hanging in the air here, but when we were together, some of it seemed to melt away.
My dad had been sent away just before I was born. He'd been involved in dealing and had gotten into a fight trying to protect my mam. That fight cost him 15 years behind bars. The only memories I had of him were in this place, under the watchful eyes of prison guards. And the only memories I had of my mum were the stories my dad, Aunt Trisha, and Uncle Tony would tell me—she passed away giving birth to me. It wasn't fair, but it was my reality. That's why I ended up in Aunt Trisha and Uncle Tony's custody. Trisha had tried her best to be like a mother to me, and Uncle Tony, well...he did what he could, though I always felt the tension whenever Dad's name came up.
"I'm sorry I haven't been in a few weeks," I said, feeling a bit guilty. "School's been keeping me busy, and everything else, y'know?"
He waved it off like he always did. "It's fine, darl. I'm just glad you're here now. How's school treatin' ya?" He tilted his head, genuinely interested.
"It's good, really good. Me and Eloise are in all the same classes." I chuckled, thinking about how inseparable we were.
He smiled, leaning forward on his elbows, and I caught sight of the tattoo with my name again. "You and Eloise... still like bleedin' twins, huh?"
I laughed. "Yeah, everyone still says that. We're practically inseparable." Then, my mind flashed to this morning, and I added, "She was going to come visit with me today, but she stayed over last night, had to go home to shower. She'll probably bring more pajamas and come back tonight."
Dad shook his head, amused. "Jesus, you two don't leave each other alone, do ya? What is it now... eleven years strong?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling. "It's crazy when you think about it."
He leaned back in his chair, folding his tattooed arms across his chest. "Have you been to visit your mam lately?"
I nodded. "Yeah, a few days ago. Me and Connor took her some flowers for Christmas. They had this little Santa hat on them—super cute." I smiled at the memory, but the second I said Connor's name, I saw my dad's expression change.
"Connor?" His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Who's that?"
Oh, great. Here we go.
I shifted in my seat, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "Uh, my... boyfriend."
His face went from curious to serious in a heartbeat. "How come you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend?" His tone wasn't angry, but I could see the furrow deepen between his brows, the protectiveness kicking in.
I tried to stay calm, leaning back in my chair. "I don't know, Dad. It's new, and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it." I paused, searching for the right words. "Plus, it's hard to talk about these things when you're in here."
He sat there, eyes narrowed, thinking it over. "How long's this been going on, then?"
"Uh, around two months, maybe?" I said quickly, shrugging to play it off like it wasn't a big deal. "He's a good guy, Dad. Really."
He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. His muscles tensed, and I could see the way his tattoos shifted as he did. "Two months, and this is the first I'm hearin' about it?"
"I didn't know how to bring it up!" I said, my voice rising defensively. "I wasn't hiding him, it's just... complicated. With school, and everything else." I trailed off, feeling the weight of his gaze.
He let out a long breath, shaking his head. "Worryin' about it? Of course I'm gonna worry, Blair. You're my daughter. I want to know who you're spending your time with."
"I get it, I do," I said, trying to calm the situation down. "But Connor's... he's different. He's not like the guys you've heard about in here, or the ones you're worried about. He really cares about me."
My dad's eyes softened a little at that, but the concern was still there, heavy in the air. "Different how?"
I sighed, trying to make him understand. "He listens, y'know? He's thoughtful. And he's good to me. I wouldn't be with him if I didn't think he was worth it."
He studied me for a long moment before letting out another sigh. "Alright," he said finally, though I could tell he still wasn't completely convinced. "I trust you, but I don't trust him just yet. You've gotta be careful. You've got a big heart, Blair, and I don't want anyone takin' advantage of that."
"I won't, Dad," I promised, my voice soft but steady.
He reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze, his calloused fingers rough but comforting. "Good," he said, his voice a little lighter. "Now, tell me more about school—what're you learning these days?"
And just like that, the tension began to melt away as we drifted back into normal conversation, the kind that made these visits feel just a little more like home.
