Damaged Hearts

46-Rosie

Her fist still raised in the air. 

"You've got this." I say even though she can't hear me. 

Maybe it reaches her because I see her take another deep breath before knocking on the door. 

Olivia

A moment after I knock on the door it opens revealing a tall woman. 

"Hello." she says and I look behind her, "Where's my dad?"

She freezes, "Olivia?" She asks and I realize I have to right now. 

In the spur of the moment I drove here, I wanted the questions that had been weighing on me to finally be answered.

Now that I was here though, now that I knew I could finally have those answers eleven year old me so desperately wanted. 

I don't know if they're worth it anymore. 

Whatever his answers and reasonings are, won't be good enough. I already know that. 

The thing is I don't know if I can handle hearing him tell me that I wasn't good enough, that it was easy for him to walk away from me. 

Who wants to hear her dad say he didn't love her enough to care what happens to her. That she wasn't worth it, worth the fight to keep her. 

I go to turn around and concede. 

I'd rather be laying in Alex's arms right now than standing on this front porch looking at the woman that took my dad away from me. 

Is it fair to blame her? No but it feels good to. 

For just one moment to blame the woman with a warm smile in front of me. 

"Do you want to come in?" She asks and I nod. 

Opening the door wider she lets me through. 

We walk over to the living room I presume. 

She sits on the couch and I take the single white chair. 

Everything in here is stark white, well except for the dark wood floor and grey curtains. 

It's a nice house, nicer than the one we have back home. 

"You're dad is just giving Rosie a bath but he'll be down here soon."

Rosie. 

My sister, the daughter I guess my dad always wanted. 

Not that I blame a little kid for why my dad left. 

"Do you want anything to drink?" She asks and I shake my head. 

We sit there in silence until I hear the creaking of the wood. 

"Who's daddy's favorite little girl?" The all too familiar voice coo's. 

I hear a giggle followed by, "I'm his favorite." It's coming from a kid. 

My heart sinks and I immediately regret being here. 

I look to my left and see pictures lining a small table by the window. 

We never had picture frames anywhere in our house. 

Not even when he was there. 

I notice a picture of him, Isabelle - his now wife - and Rosie. 

All the pictures are of variations of the three of them. 

In everyone they are smiling, like an adorable little family. 

"Hey Iz I-" His words die in his mouth as he takes me in. 

Rosie is on his hip, she's wearing a pajama set and I see her wet curls sticking to her forehead. 

"Olivia?" He asks but his tone isn't as soft as Isabelle's was. 

I stand from my seat. 

All the questions I had lined up before I got here can't seem to come out. 

The only thing I can focus on is how much he was able to move on. 

Clearly that answers all my questions right?

Me and my mom were just anchors holding him down. 

"Dad." I say but the sentiment of that word feels hollow. 

"How did you find me?" He asks and I scoff. 

Six years and that's the first question he asks me?

"Nice to see you too." I say, dryly. 

Rosie looks over at me, "Who are you?" She asks and I give her a warm smile, "I'm-"

"She's daddy's friend." He finishes and I feel like someone took a dull knife to my heart. 

Isabelle gives him a sharp look, clearly displeased at his definition of who I am. 

He looks at me as if I am a stranger, trespassing somewhere I don't belong. 

"Did your mom tell you where I was?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

I nod, "I wish you would've been the one to tell me." I say softly. 

I wish you would stop looking at me like I am nothing to you. 

"If I wanted you to find me I would've told you where I was."

Oh, right. 

Part of me, the smallest, smallest part of me always hoped he'd regretted it. 

That the moment he saw me again he'd apologize profusely about the mistake he made and that he was a coward for leaving. 

Instead all I get is a man who looks like my dad. That is all. 

"I thought you'd want to see me." I whisper. 

He nods, "Now I have."

Seriously?

I drove all the way out here for this?

Fuck that. 

"I think I should leave." I say and Isabelle shakes her head, "Please stay."

"Clearly I'm unwelcome." I say giving my dad a dark look before leaving the house. 

I get into the car but Alex doesn't say anything. 

I don't either, so we drive in silence. 

The moment we pull up at his house I head straight to the treehouse.

Alex follows and we sit beside each other. 

The moment I look at him I break, falling apart into his arms as he holds me close to him. 

"I'm here." He reminds me as I sob into his hoodie. 

"He hates me." I whisper and a strangled noise leave Alex's throat, "I'm sure he doesn't."

"He never wanted me to find him, he never wanted to see me again. Alex you should've seen the way he was looking at me, like how dare I walk in on his perfect little life." I cry harder and Alex holds me closer. 

I cry for what feels like forever. 

That's the last thing I remember, crying in Alexander Stevens' arms.