Chapter Fourteen

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A/N

Hi all,

This chapter talks deeply about addiction as well as briefly mentioning human trafficking. The next chapter will also be mentioning domestic abuse and fostering - so a trigger warning is now in place.

Thank you

- Rose

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On my twenty-fifth birthday, I was sent to Atlanta Georgia for an art show. That weekend changed the course of my life and the life of others for the better - and it all started at the gallery. There's something about art that says everything that words fail too. I guess that's why I love it so much, but when I heard a man's voice, not even art could stop my blood from boiling.

"Alexandria" He greeted.

When I turned to face the fellow artist, I recognized him immediately. He was the man who's a picture I would stare at in anger. His absence changed the course of my whole life, whether he knew it or not. Neither of us knew it then, but his presence had just as big of an impact - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Doug" I gasped.

He stood in a lavish suit and tie, wearing a bright smile.

"It's nice to see you again" He leaned in to kiss my cheek but I turn my head quickly away from him."Is something wrong?"

I clenched my jaw. I had waited my entire life for this moment - Here it goes. Say everything you've ever wanted to say, don't think, just do it; I thought to myself.

"You tell me" I folded my arms, taking a step back, "considering you were the one that walked out"

There was a moment of silence. He then nodded slowly, looking down at his leather shoes before saying "you know?"

"Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?" I raised a brow.

"Can we not do this here?" he begged.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was trying to protect his reputation. What would people think if they knew that Doug Faire, respected, big-time selling painter, was actually a two-timer who walked out on his family?

"Oh, that's right, you're actually respectable here," I scoffed, "I guess they don't know you very well-"

That's when Doug grabbed my arm, dragging me outside in the cold, away from all the other artists and guests. When he let go, he sighed.

"What do you want me to say?" Doug asked.

I paused in anger and frustration."I was a kid, a little kid! Why did you leave?"

"I wasn't ready for a wife or a kid...I was young when I married your mum and I wasn't done with my old life yet...I was too set in my ways...I was partying, using, drinking too much. I would come home drunk out of mind, wake up in places that I couldn't even remember how I got there...I met a girl named Kiki while I was with your mother...Kiki was my escape...my way out" he explained.

"You had an affair?" I rolled my eyes, "why am I not surprised?"

"Kiki and I left town together" Doug admitted, "it didn't last long...she left me not long later"

"I was three years old" my eyes welled up with tears, "you couldn't stay for mum but you should have been able to stay for me! Did you ever love me?"

"Alexandria—" He buried his face in his hands.

"No, you need to hear this, okay? I've been waiting my whole life to say this to you! I don't want to be that little girl anymore who would sit up in her room all night, asking herself why my dad doesn't want me, okay? You were the first man to ever break my heart, understand? The first person to make me feel like I was nothing, so no, you don't get a pass—"

That's when he took out his wallet and showed me the old wrinkled photo that was displayed. It was me when I was a baby, in his arms.

"Listen to me" Doug begged, "it killed me leaving you, okay, I didn't have a choice! I would have ruined your life if I had stayed, I didn't want you to end up like me...an angry drunk. You grew up beautifully without me. I always knew you would be beautiful."

"You didn't take into account nature versus nurture" I soften my voice, "even with your absence, we're more alike then you think"

"What?" he furrowed his brows as I pulled out my phone, showing him a picture of Freddy, "is that-"

"I had him when I was sixteen" I admitted, "those nine months was the longest I have ever gone without drinking"

"Sixteen?" He dropped onto the bench.

I followed his actions, taking a seat beside him.

"Drinking and using started when I was fourteen" I shrugged, "I guess a lot of this is genetic..."

We sat in silence for a few minutes while he collected his thoughts. What I would have done at that moment to know what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry...for everything...I didn't mean to cause any harm, I left to save you pain not inflict it." Doug assured. "How is your mum?"

"She's great" I struggled to speak. "She's with a great man named Tom"

"Is she happy?" he looked to me. I nodded. "Good, I'm glad"

I stood up from the bench, "goodbye, Doug"

The following day concluded my trip to Atlanta, Georgia. My plane didn't leave until later that night, so before leaving for the airport, I visited another art gallery. The sun had set by the time I had arrived and the air was colder than the night before.

My assistant, Bella stood to my left and my agent, Cassy to my right as we loomed in front of a realistic oil on canvas painting of a girl from Bangladesh - The piece was called Pacara; meaning trafficked, in Bangla.

The three of us stood in silence, admiring the painting of the girl with the haunted eyes, mascara running down her face and overlined lips. She smiled yet she wasn't happy. She wore a wine red dress and gold chains around her neck. She was a child, brought into a life she didn't deserve. One of pain, emptiness, violence and misery. My heart still aches for the girl in that painting and girls like her. I find myself thinking about Pacara and that girl often.

At that moment, I let it all go. All my anger towards my father and the people in my life, I had to let go of it all. My life is so privileged and I think that I had forgotten that along the way. So, I took a few steps away from Bella and Cassy before picking up my phone and dialling Doug's number.

"Your phone is ringing," Freddy looks over to me, waking me up from my memories.

"What" I blink.

"Aren't you going to answer it?" he cocks a brow.

I nod, pulling my phone from my pocket "hey, dad"

"Hey, Ally, I called the home line but no one picked up," my father tells me.

"Fred and I are on a road trip, actually" I admit.

"What about the girls?" he asks.

"Ling and Patralekha are with Mum and Tom," I tell him.

"Right, Well, I just got the five of us tickets to see the dodgers next month for Freddy's birthday" He announces.

I smile, "that sound's perfect dad, I know he'll really appreciate that"

"I thought he might" He laughs, "sorry Ally, a client just got in, I'll talk to you later"

"Bye dad" I end the call before looking over to Freddy.

"Was that grandpa?" he asks.

I smirk "yes"

"Did I hear something about the dodgers?" he cocks a brow.

I roll my eyes, "Keep driving"

I revert my gaze out the window. I wonder what my life would have been like if was never sent to Atlanta last minute for that art show. What if I went straight to the airport instead of going to that art gallery first? I don't think I would have my daughters or my father in my life. I don't consider myself to be religious but if there is a God out there, I thank him for sending me to Atlanta that weekend, as it changed the entire course of my life - and it was all due to Pacara for putting everything into perspective.

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