Painful Confessions.

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"What about your father? You left all of your memories of him behind. Do you no longer care about him?" Her words feel like a punch to the gut. My features crumple up with pain and I glance at her from over my shoulder.

"Don't bring up my father. If he knew the monster you'd become, he'd encourage me to run as far away from you as possible." I say to her. Her dark eyes blaze with emotion and she takes a step toward me. A look crosses her face, almost as if she's standing on the warpath ready to target me.

"You talk so highly of him, yet you don't treat me with the same regard." Does she really believe I place her on the same pedestal as my father? How could I after everything she's done to me. She betrayed me. Just because we share the same blood doesn't automatically mean she's good for me. "You allowed Trevor to beat me for years, Dad would never –" I argue with her but my words are cut off when she interrupts with a heart-wrenching confession. "He wasn't your real father."

"What did you say?" I whisper, feeling my legs weakening underneath me. Mom inhales a deep breath and her eyes flash with a sick pleasure. This is the real her. Spiteful, cowardly and sneaky. She's enjoying seeing my world come crashing down around me. "He wasn't your real father, Emily. It's about time you knew." Mom repeats before storming off in the opposite direction. I curl over my shopping cart, fighting tears and struggling to catch my breath.

*

I'm sitting in the corner of my bedroom with my knees drawn into my chest. The room is dark, the curtains are drawn and I've spent the last several hours in complete silence. My mind feels numb but my heart feels like it's smashing into the wall of my chest over and over again. He wasn't your real father. That's what she said to me. Everything I've known about my life is a lie. Every good memory I had with my father was based on a lie. Was she ever going to tell me? Was he ever going to tell me if he didn't die? A single tear rolls down my cheek. There's a soft knock on my bedroom door and the door pushes open. Ivory and Jake stand in the doorway with worried expressions.

"Wentworth?" Jake calls out in the dark room. I don't respond. "What happened at the store, Ivory? You have to know something," Jake asks his cousin. She shakes her head sadly, looking like she wishes she could be more helpful. "I don't know what happened. One minute she was there and the next, she was gone." Ivory says. I'd abandoned my shopping cart and rushed out of the store. I don't remember getting home.

I've considered the option of her lying solely to hurt me. When I remember the twisted look in her eyes, I know she was telling me the truth. She wanted to see my reaction first hand to learning my childhood was a lie. I don't have the desire to learn about my real father. I simply feel broken. Jake walks into the room before dropping down in front of me. He reaches out to place a hand on top of my trembling knee. "Emily?" Jake says softly while searching my eyes. They're glazed over with tears, and I feel an invisible rock lodge itself in the back of my throat. It makes it impossible to speak. I look up into Jake's eyes with a broken expression.

"What happened at the store?" Jake questions me. "I ran into my Mom," I whisper, feeling like I'm forcing the words out of my throat. Jake's jaw locks and he inhales a deep breath to subside the anger growing inside him. "What did she say? Did she hurt you?" She didn't just hurt me. She shattered everything I've ever believed about my father.

"She told me my father wasn't my father. It was all a lie," I whisper. My heart feels like it's being ripped out of my chest. I release a strangled sob before looking up at Jake. "I feel like such a fool," I cry out. Jake pulls me into his chest before wrapping me up in his arms. I cling onto him with desperation. He buries his lips in my hair before speaking.

"It doesn't matter who your biological father is, Emily. The man who raised you? That's your Dad. From everything you've told me, he sounds like a brilliant man. The memories you have of him? They're all yours and they're real." Jake tells me firmly. My cries subside when I realise he's right.

When I was five years old and couldn't sleep because of an imaginary monster in the closet, my father would lie with me all night. When I was six and vowed to be a vegetarian, my father supported me through my decision even though he loved to eat steak from the BBQ. When I fell off my skateboard and broke my ankle, my father drove me to the ER and asked them to patch me up with a pink bandage. He was the first person to sign it. When I experienced my first friendship heartbreak, my father told me he would always be my best friend.

That's the man who I consider my father. "You're right... He's my father," I whisper into Jake's shirt. The tears dry on my cheeks and I feel the pain beginning to fade. Jake firmly nods his head with confirmation. "Yes, he's your father. Your Mom can't take that away from you."

I pull back to look up at him with blotchy cheeks and puffy eyes. He grounds me when I feel like I'm losing control of my life. "I can't do any of this without you, Jake," I whisper the words in a broken tone. I hate how shattered I sound, but it's true. I feel like I'm being beaten from every direction in life. Jake shakes his head before weaving both hands through the back of my hair. He leans down until his gaze is locked onto mine. "You don't need me. You're strong, brave and courageous all on your own. You've got this, okay?" He waits until I've blinked away all of my tears. I don't feel strong, brave or courageous but I'm hoping it will come. When Jake tells me I can do something, I believe him. I nod my head before responding in a small whisper. "Okay."

"Come with me," Jake says before gently pulling me off the floor. He pulls me into his chest before guiding me out of the room. "Where are we going?" I ask him. He places a firm kiss against my forehead before speaking.

"I'm ordering extra cheese pizza with pineapple, and we're going to binge watch dumpster diving videos until you're no longer sad." 

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