Chapter Twenty Three

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"Vivian, can we talk?" my father asked the following day. I was alone in my room sketching different pieces for my upcoming semester final.

"You're here and I can tell you won't leave until you get it off your chest. So talk." I said flatly gesturing to an empty seat next to my desk.

Dad looked around my room before reluctantly sitting down. I turned a blind eye and continued sketching. My room was a complete mess because I had wads of paper thrown everywhere. Every idea I had for a piece looked great in my head, but on paper they were as bad as the 2016 presidential election.

Because let's face it, it's pretty bad. A good portion of Florida is convinced that Ted Cruz is the zodiac killer. Hilary is dabbing for votes. Bernie is hotline blinging. Then there's Trump--do I even need to start with Trump? OUR KIDS WILL HAVE TO LEARN ABOUT THIS ELECTION!

But back to my point, 'My designs are as bad as the election....

"I wanted to talk about family-" dad said breaking my odd reverie.

I scoffed and put down my sketchbook. "Really? I thought you wanted to talk about politics. But please, go on." I replied in mock interest. Dad sighed and closed his eyes as if gathering his patience.

"Vivian please, your sarcasm is only making this hard." he pleaded.

"That's what she said." I chuckled. Dad looked at me flatly clearly not amused. "What?"

"I want to talk about family because what you said was true. We were never a family." he admitted downcasting his dark brown eyes in shame. "Your mother and I have always been consumed by our jobs. Then we went through our divorce and became consumed in that. The very last thing on our minds was you kids and I want to apologize." he sighed.

"You weren't there....why do you want to be here now?" I asked the question that had been burning my mind since they arrived.

"Your mother and I were going to Boston to spend time with you. Then the administrators told us you returned to Virginia and we couldn't pass up the prefect opportunity." he explained to me.

"What are you talking about?" I raised my eyebrow.

"I may have not been the best father but I am a pretty observant person. When Sawyer said you left the night after I-"

"The night after you hit me?" I narrowed my eyes at him in pure bitterness. Dad met my eyes with remorse and regret and I couldn't help the small part of me that wanted to forgive him.

"I will never do that again and I hate myself everyday for it. But I think Sawyer hated me even more. Because when he told your mom and I that you left, he looked so heartbroken. That's when I realized how much you two meant to each other." he said with a small smile when talked about Sawyer and I.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I can't blame you for icing out your mother and I. We deserved your wrath. But Sawyer doesn't and I know you haven't spoken to him in months. Whatever you have against your brother, I think you should work it out." he advised me.

"Why do you care?" I frowned.

"Because you said you can't mend something that wasn't there. Pumpkin, what you and your brother have is a family. That's worth mending." he said honestly and in that statement, I knew it held nothing truth.

Maybe dad wasn't such a horrible person. Sure he had his flaws but he was trying to make amends, not for himself but for us. For Sawyer and I.

He was right. What I had with Sawyer was worth saving. My brother was all the family I ever had. Our relationship was worth fighting for. I don't know who I am anymore. At least, not without Sawyer.

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