||Say yes...please?|| {Unedited}

Chapter Thirteen

"Slowly , but things do change"

Part-Two

All my happiness flew away when I saw that horrified expression on Jake's face.

Before I could ask him that why he had called me, he looked up to me and then motioned me in a frantic way to go in to my office.

I looked at him bewildered and then made my way to my office.

As the door opened, I couldn't help but gape at the person standing in front of me, looking at the photo frame I keep my desk. He was in my office or...his office?

He looked up and smiled. The smile I last saw when...I don't even remember.

"Dad?" It came out more like a question.

"Derek." He said with a firm nod, acknowledging my presence.

I made my way to him and took the frame from his hand that he was holding and before placing it, I looked at it. It was of my mother, the only thing I had left of her...except the memories that was imprinted on my heart.

He looked at the frame in my hand and he sighed and then stood in a posture, but not the posture I have always seen him in, with his head held high and shoulders stretched as well, like a king. Today, instead of that posture, he had a different one, his head was hung low and shoulders were slumped, he was looking defeated, not something I had thought I would ever see. The bags under his eyes were enough for me to comprehend that he has not been sleeping enough, however I didn't knew about his drinking problem. I had several questions to ask him but the most prominent question of all was about his presence in my office.

"You look different," he said putting his hand on my shoulder looking at me with the emotion I couldn't decipher.

I didn't answer, I just gaped at him. Why is he here after 7 years? All the questions regarding his presence started invading my head. Why has he come after so many years?

Last, I heard of him was when he came to Manhattan which was around three months back. Even then, he didn't come to meet me. He just stayed at home, for I don't know how many days, then he left again. But why now?
He looked at me, and I looked back at him. The man standing in front of me is not my father, not the father I grew up with, he was rather, a guy I barely recognized. His eyes were sad, they were holding tears, he was broken.

Suddenly I had a urge to hug him, I don't know why, but I just did. I have never seen him like this and honestly, I never intended to.

He sighed, as a tear crept through his eyes.

I hugged him hard. Well that's among my first, as I've never had a fatherly relationship with my father. The one every child have with his father. My relationship with my father could be classified under formal category, of an employee and a boss where you talk, but not much then required where your sentences should only consist answers, not questions.

I let him go and stood there awkwardly, the silence seemed to be growing between us. He finally spoke,

"I found your mother's journals."

"What?" I questioned.

"I know. I shouldn't have read them," he said looking away, "-but that's the only thing closely related to your mother," he said and moved towards the glass wall that gave the view of Manhattan.

"Dad...Don't dig skeletons, you will only get hurt," I said.

"What happened is in the past, okay? It cannot make any difference to our present or future." I said moving towards him and standing beside him.