This Love ✔️

This Backstory

My Dad and I used to be super close before my grandpa died. It was always us three, fishing, camping, going out to eat, and leaving the girly things to my sister, Mom, and Grandma. But when his father passed my Dad devoted all of his time to his work, leaving me alone most of the time. Of course I was seventeen, he passed last spring, but it didn't make up for the missing hole in my life that my Dad and Grandpa used to take up.

I don't blame my Dad for turning to work, I know how close he was with Grandpa, but it just sucks not being able to go fishing with them anymore or just driving to New York to piss my Mom off. We never get to spend time anymore, the two of us, so when he came into my room tonight and asked me why I was crying, I told him. I told him everything, minus me losing my virginity because I know he wouldn't have lived that.

When I was done he  looked at me with those same green eyes I share with him.

He breaks eye contact to comfortably lay back against my head board next to me. "Did we ever tell you how me and your mother met?"

"You went to England and ran into her, you two fell in love, happily ever after, blah blah blah. I know Dad."

I don't really know where any of this is going. One moment I was telling him about Bash and comparing him to Lucas and suddenly he brought this up.

"Well yes but there are more details to it than that sweet heart." He gently runs his fingers through my hair, just like he used to when I was little.

"Well indulge me. I haven't heard a good bed time story in a long time." I curl up into his side finding comfort in his warmth. Any hold from a father can mend a broken girls heart.

"Well then," he coughs to perfect his voice, "Once upon a time you're mother was dating a bad boy."

I gasp, faking shock. "No, she didn't." It was no surprise that my Mom would find herself with a bad boy given her life style back then. She had three older angry brothers and an equally angry Dad, all alcoholics. Usually you find people who are most like the people already in your life, it's just how the universe works.

My Dad rolls his eyes, not feeling the same amusement as I am. "Yes she did. He had tattoo's, a bad mouth, large muscles and a wicked reputation."

I have a feeling that he's comparing this so called bad boy to Bash. Although Bash looks like a bad boy, and well exactly like how my Dad described him, he doesn't party like one anymore. Or well I think. I don't know, he lies about a lot of things to me.

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I saved your mother from him."

Now I'm interested. "How so?"

"I was walking down the street in London with a few of my buddies. It was late at night, we just got back from a seminar in the city and was looking for a bar to drink at. Anyways there we were, walking down the street, the three of us when all of the sudden a body comes crashing through the door of a pub in front of us. It nearly knocked us all off our feet. The man who around our age looked intimidating to say the least. But he got to his feet, obviously drunk because he couldn't stand straight for a single second. He swayed a little bit too far, nearly falling straight on his face before my friend grabbed him. Of course the drunk man didn't like being touched so he threw a punch in an instant. Soon it turned into him against me, my friend with a broken nose on the ground. I'm sure if he was sober he could have kicked my ass but he wasn't. His five gallons of beer was no competition against my wrestling career in high school."

"Yay for you Dad," I mutter sarcastically.

He softly glares at me before continuing. "Anyways, as I was saying, we were fighting and I had him pinned underneath me, that is until I laid eyes on the most beautiful woman in the world. You're mother ran out of the bar, two of her brothers behind her, both drunk as well. She had blonde hair," my father says with a far off look, "it reminded me of summer, and she had the most captivating blue eyes that I couldn't look away from, even if they were focused on her drunk boyfriend beneath me. I was so entranced by her beauty that the scoundrel under me got a hold of me and knocked me out."

"He knocked you out," I ask shocked.

"I woke up later laying in a hospital bed. My two other friends were getting one of their noses checked. So that left me with one person; your mother."

"She went with you?"

"No," he says softly, "she stayed with her drunk boyfriend and abusive brothers until later that night when she snuck out to come see me at the hospital."

"She tracked you down at the hospital to see you? That's adorable!"

"Not exactly."

"Oh come on," I groan. "Just get to the good part where you steal her away from the asshole."

He chuckles but continues. "She came to see me to persuade me into not pressing charges against her boyfriend. I would have if it was anyone else but it wasn't. I did something I'm not proud of but yet, don't regret. I told her I wouldn't press any charges as long as she went out to dinner with me."

"You blackmailed Mom? That's how you won her over?" I ask shocked. Doesn't seem like a very good love story to me.

"No, that's not how I won her over. And believe me she hated me after that. She was screaming all kinds of nasty words and threats, your mother isn't the same person she once was. Heck I don't think I've heard her standup for herself in ages," he says sadly. "But she eventually agreed to a strict business like date when she realized that I could put her boyfriend in jail because turns out he was under aged, same with her brothers."

"So how did you win her over?"

"My charm," he smiles and winks.

"Dad," I softly hit his shoulder. "I want details, all of them."

"Well she snuck out of the house and met me at a fancy restaurant in London. I did everything I was supposed to, paid for her food, opened her doors, pulled out her chair, offered her numerous compliments and kept my hands to myself. And when she wasn't focused on me, she was focused on the people and things around us. The expensive clothes and jewelry, the hanging chandeliers, all of it, she was in a trance like I was with her. I made her laugh like a hyena at the table and I don't remember her ever not smiling past a certain point in the date.

I took her home and kissed her on the cheek, I think she would've let me kiss her on the lips but I was trying to keep her hooked. We said our goodnights and parted ways. Then," my father grows a dark and stormy look on her face, "I ran into her a couple days later on the street by coincidence. She had a nasty black eye that she tried hiding underneath her hair but I saw it."

"Her boyfriend found out and hit her?"

"Her boyfriend, her brothers, it didn't matter to me. I pleaded her to come with to America with me for a little bit just for safety. Of course she declined but one week later she found me at the airport, I gave her all the information she needed in case she changed her mind and she did. We didn't say anything, she just ran into my arms and started to bawl. I took her onto the plane and inspected her new found injuries, bruises all over her arms and legs, more on her face. She came to America and stayed with us. What was supposed to be only a little vacation, a getaway, turned into her life. She never went back to England."

I process his words over and over again. By the time I come with an question he's already creeping out the door.

"Dad wait," I call.

He pokes his head back in and says, "Yes sweetie?"

"Why did you tell me this?"

He gives me a sad smile. "Because you might a teenager and not looking for your future husband but that doesn't mean you should be with someone that's not good for you. It could hurt you more than you know in the end."

"Bash isn't good for me? Dad, I told you, we don't have feelings like that for each other."

"All the more reason for you to forget about him and put this behind you," he says. "Goodnight honey, I'll see you tomorrow."

He closes the door behind him and I'm left alone, like always, in my own messed up head.