BITTER SWEET. | J. JK

SEVENTY-FOUR.

"You know, I never asked you..."

"Asked me what?"

"What will you do when you find your mother's murderer? We get him, then what happens?"

"I want to make sure he'll feel the same pain I felt, and feel, knowing the person I loved the most was taken from me because of him."

**

Good lies take years and years of construction, nights on end of complexity, early mornings of predicting moves and an eternity of comfort. However, it only took roughly an hour to crumble it all down and, at last, the truth prevailed. Because the truth always won the war.

"Y/N, daughter, you don't mean that. I understand you're upset about the situation." The man cleared his throat, adjusted the tie around his neck and swallowed back the irritation he felt. He breathed in and he breathed out before, smiling sweetly, stepping once again, towards her, holding frailly her hands. Y/N let him. "I want you to know that I'm here for you now. Yes, I was absent half of your life but I never stopped wishing for a day when I could you meet you again, my little girl, again. And, you must have so many questions, I know, and I have the answers."

Her lips pursed as two withered roses between a closed book, eyes searching for something, anything at all, that could assure her of his honesty, of his want to disclosure the truth, the secret she had kept for all her life. It was her father, after fifteen years, there standing before her, asking for a little of her time to clarify himself. To give him a chance.

The black-haired man knew exactly what he was doing, he knew utterly what moved her daughter, what manipulated her. He squeezed her hands softly and his smile brightened when she hadn't demonstrated any sign of taken back. He, eventually, let go of her, stepping sideways towards the round table next to them, he pulled a chair back and gestured her to seat down.

"All I ask you if just a little time to explain myself. I want to make things right. Okay?"

Y/N complied, between stiff steps she walked towards her father and, she sat down, shifting uncomfortably. She was, in fact, reluctant. Noticing the huge smile that spread through the older man's lips, her heart tugged on her chest, inklings boiling inside her. But, however, there was still a part of her who was curious of what the man had to say and an even more tiny piece of her whispered closed to her ear what if's. What if this could bring her closer to what happened with her mother?

Y/N wasn't stupid and she knew her father, he wouldn't show up without a very good motive. Portrayed saudade just wasn't going to cut it for her. And, so when she was invited to play, she played her ace of spades.

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm so happy you're willing to listen." He said quickly as he sat down in front of her.

"Yeah..." The woman felt the need to avoid his eyes, the strong of the black were too much for her to handle. She mouthed a small hum, trying to move her attention to the city skyline colors but it was clear her mind was somewhere else.

The man rubbed his hands together, an almost disturbingly happy grin, when a waiter came out of the nowhere, the nowhere Y/N soon realized was the kitchen door a few feet away from them. Wrapped around towels, shimmed up to his neck in his black suit, the waiter brought with him a very expensive looking bottle of wine. He served the man and, when he was about to do the same with her, Y/N gracefully declined, objecting she didn't alcohol. An obvious lie that bloomed as truth to her father, who only smiled and swooshed the waiter away.

She watched him sip the wine, calmly, like he had all the time in the world. It made her anxious, drumming her fingernails against the soft of the silk tablecloths. Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear, she waited for the man to speak once more. He did.