The Presidents Daughter

Don't Give Up

Aaliyah

A few days after the incident I return to Washington to be with my family. I wanted to stay in Chicago because I didn't want to leave on such bad terms, but I couldn't stay either. As soon as I told my dad what happened he found the guy pretty easily. I didn't have to tell him much of anything before he had that mans whole life in the palm of his hands. There's no denying the president and he was way over protective of me. I didn't want to tell him but he got it out of me, pretty easily at that. He assigned me extra protection while I was out anywhere and he checked up on me regularly now. He might run the country but he's my dad first and foremost and he wants to make sure I'm okay.

My mom on the other hand has been smothering me. I can't remember the last time I did anything and she wasn't there with me. I felt like a little kid again. But she wanted to make sure I was going to be okay, and I was going to, but it was going to take some time.

So my plans for MAC back in Chicago was on hold as I tried to get myself together. I couldn't sleep on my own and I couldn't be anywhere dark without freaking out. So I turned to a familiar release I have and that was writing.

"Knock knock, I brought you a ceaser salad and a sweet tea" my sister says days as she stands in the doorway. I welcome her in and she sets my tray next to me. She plops down on the bed and waits for me to say something.

"So... how are you doing" she asks trying to get something out of me.

"I'm fine" I claim.

"You're writing so you're really not fine" she accuses making me sigh. "You want to talk about it" she asks.

"No, I don't. Thats the problem" I say softly.

"Well I'm here if you want to talk. So is mom and Melia and dad to a certain extent. So is Patrick..." she trails off.

I haven't talked to him since that night. I didn't want to think of him because every time I do I think about him with that girl and not being there for me. And the worst part is that I'm always thinking of him. I can't stop thinking of him and it sucks. Because he hurt me but he's also the only one I want to talk to right now, but I won't let myself.

"He calls me every day asking about you. To see if you're okay and how he can help you out. I know he calls you too and you just don't answer. You want to but you never do. I know you still watch his games, it's the playoffs and I can hear you screaming from two doors over. You care for him and he cares for you too, why don't you let him in" she asks.

"He had his chance to help me" I remind her.

"Did he? Because he's still trying and maybe, just maybe he can" she claims.

"What if he hurts me again" I ask.

"What if he doesn't" she counters.

The next second I see my phone going off on my desk. Patrick's ID pops up and I feel my chest clinch. I get a pain I've become too accustomed to when I see his face. What used to bring up the best of the memories now brings out the worst in me.

"I'm going to go. If you want to get better you answer that call. If you want to continue feeling sorry for yourself then just let it ring" she says.

She leaves me as I continue to stare at my phone. My heart was beating out of my chest as I try not to do anything crazy. But suddenly I had the phone in my hand and I answered it before it goes to voice mail. So I put it up to my ear and hope I didn't make a huge mistake.

"I didn't think I would ever hear from you again" he starts. I smile a little when I hear the sound of his voice. It was so familiar, I missed it.

"I wasn't so sure you would either" I admit.

"Do you really hate me that much" he asks.

"Patrick... I could never hate you. No matter what I will always love the person you can be" I insist.

"But the person I am you hate" he claims.

"No. I don't hate you. I never have and I never will" I promise.

"Then why can't you talk to me" he asks.

"Because I want to forget everything about that night. Including the awful stuff that has to do with you. But I can't forget it. I'm not like that guy who had obviously been through that before and I'm not like you where I drink and I forget everything about myself. Stuff like this damages me and picking up the pieces isn't easy" I say.

"By yourself it's not. But with someone else it's a little easier" he claims. "Why can't it be me?"

"How do I know I can trust you again? How can I let you in without letting myself down" I question.

"You won't know until it works or it's too late. But that decision is up to you. I'm ready to figure all this out so we can be together again, as god intended us to be. And I'm ready to fight for you until I bleed from crawling. But only when you're ready to try again" he promises.

"I need time to think. Time to put life into perspective and to see what this does to me" I explains.

"And I get that. But can't you do that here where you're not so far away" he asks.

"No, not yet. I'm not ready to be in the city again. I need to find my strength to keep going on. Then I'll be home" I promise.

"I don't want to lose you Leah. You're the best thing to have ever happen to me and I'm not giving up on us. I hope you aren't too" he says.

I reach down and feel where my necklace once sat. I think about how he treated me like a queen and how I got so used to it. And I think about how giving up on that could be the worst thing I could do.

"I'm not giving up on you. On us. I promise" I say.

"Okay. So can we talk after my game tonight" he asks and I smile.

"Yeah. I'll be watching" I insist.

"I miss you Lea" he says.

"I miss you most."