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The letter pulls me like a magnet that irritates me to no end, I hate the fact that I want to open it and see what my father has to tell me after all these years. How could he have the audacity to contact me after the nerve he had to leave his own family behind without even blinking. He chose to leave us when I was fifteen, the three of us had left Forks and moved to Colorado—My father's home state. My mom was the one who had been born in Forks, my dad happened to be working here when they'd met as the story she would tell me. He's who I get my hazel eyes and pale skin from, my mother is where my dark hair comes from—But I'm told I look more like my father than my mother. I used to be very close with my dad, I used to love that I looked like him, but now I detest it. I frown angrily at the envelope sitting on my dresser knowing I really don't have the heart to throw it away. As I grab my car keys from my bed I give the letter one last glance before going off to work.



My phone buzzes as I stand behind the counter of the currently empty store.

So are you going to open it? Paul.

No. I don't know.

After I check out another customer, I glance at the clock on the wall— fifteen more minutes left until I can clock out and go home thankfully.

Well, I'll support you no matter what. Even if you don't ever open it. I smile at Paul's message before putting my phone back in my pocket, he has always been very supportive of me in wanting the best for me. The time drones on leaving me to know one thing, I can go home and finally just toss the letter in the trash. He doesn't deserve my attention and he most certainly does not deserve a reply from me after what he did. He left us and never came back, he didn't tell us where he was going or why he wanted to go away—He just vanished one day after a "I'm leaving, goodbye" and just walked out of the house. My mom had to be the one to tell me when I got home from school that he left, there was no way for us to contact him or for me to know why he wanted to leave us so badly. I clock out from work as I walk to my car, I fix my rear view mirror only to realize I have tears on my cheeks— I hate crying, especially over something like this. I wish I didn't still cry about it, but I do. It does hurt even if I don't want it to.
When I reach my apartment I toss my keys as well as my phone on my dining room table before making my way over to the kitchen to grab a apple from the fruit bowl. I take a bite before my eyes land on the letter, a heavy sigh leaves my lips as I set the apple down and pick up the letter. I hesitantly flip it over to see the address he sent it from, my heart stops and my stomach flips. Forks Washington. He sent this letter to and from Forks, he's here. How long as he been here? Who told him I was here? How long has he known I've been here? There has to be some mistake, he's here. My hands don't connect with my brain or my heart, the quickly tear the envelope open and unfold the letter as my eyes begin to scan the written words in the familiar hand writing my eyes recognize.

Willow, I know you must be furious with me and for that I am sorry for the pain I have caused you and your mother all of these years. I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness but at least let me see you, the address written below is where I am staying in Forks. If you choose to come by, I'll explain everything, you'll know everything. I hope you don't choose to ignore this letter, I know you want answers. Please know that I love you very much despite the pain I have caused you, it was never my intent to hurt you or your mother.

Jeffery Douglas.


A few tears fill my eyes as I drop the letter on the table. My shaking hands make their way through my hair as I sniffle trying to hold back my cries, I clench my jaw. He really does have some nerve for telling me he loves me, you don't just abandon you family. You don't just abandon someone without any explanation, I was his daughter and he left without ever telling me why. And why now does this think I want answers from him? I scoff and shake my head as I frown angrily, he deserves a piece of my mind—He lost my respect a long time ago. My mom struggled for so long after he left and I had to watch her work endless nights, three jobs even though she was exhausted before she got the job she has now. He broke her heart too and he deserves to know exactly how I feel. I grab the letter before taking my car keys and going back out to my car, with the sun beginning to set I look at the address as I put it in my portable gps before driving down the road.





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