Cupid's Assistant {Completed}

Cupid's Assistant - Chapter Twelve

My father had changed since I’d last saw him. His hair was starting to go gray at the roots, and now he wore smart, gold-rimmed glasses that were slightly, carelessly askew on his aquiline nose. But it was definitely my father. I would know him from anywhere. I still remembered the exact way he looked. Right now he had the same expression on that he had had nine years ago when he said his goodbye to me and walked out of my life for what I thought was going to be forever.

I was kind of ashamed I hadn’t realized it earlier and put all the pieces together.

My father’s name was James Shepherd. Hunter had mentioned his stepfather’s name was James, and Karen had been introduced as Karen Shepherd. But it was such a common name that the thought had not crossed my mind for even a nanosecond.

I don’t know how he recognized me as well. Maybe I still looked similar to how I did nine years ago when he left me in the dead of night without a backwards glance.

Either way he was looking at me like he had just seen a ghost. 

Which kind of made sense since nine years ago he had left me for dead.

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Hunter asked, looking between us with bewildered eyes.

I took a step back, my heart pounding against my rib cage as I stared at him. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered that night nine years ago. When he had left me, not even leaving a note or a message. He had tucked me into bed like it was a normal night, kissed me on the forehead, and closed the door. It was the last time I had ever seen him for nine years.

He left his own daughter like I meant nothing to him. Like I was trash he was eager to discard. A burden.

He stepped forward, reaching out for me, but I stumbled backwards, shaking my head and saying shakily, “Don’t touch me.” The thought of him close to me made me want to puke. After so many years, I didn’t want to see my father, not now.

“Mia…”

“Just don’t, okay?” I cried, tuning out my boyfriend and the rest of his family who had somehow been roped into this strange drama. It was like a reality show or soap opera. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I have so much left to say to you,” he whispered, seeming hurt. Well, too bad for him. I was hurt nine years ago by him.

“I imagine you would,” I replied, grabbing my coat from where Karen had told me to leave it on the large, rich coatrack that now seemed cheap. What were materialistic items when it had been earned by dropping your family in the middle of the night? “What, we haven’t talked in nine years? You didn’t even say goodbye, dad. For nine years you went missing. You never called, never left me a note, never even sent a freaking birthday card.”  

His face crumpled, like he was in pain. Good, I hoped I hurt him as much as he had hurt me. “Mia, it wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t care, Dad,” I said, shaking my head vigorously. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, feeling immature and naïve and stupid. “I. Don’t. Care. You left us in the middle of the night. We didn’t know where you went. How could you do that to me?”