The Fate Of Broken Hearts

Chapter 4

"Honey, he's waiting for your call. He says he won't leave it alone until he speaks to you." I didn't know what to think about all of this. College was supposed to be a new beginning, and a new place where hours of driving could distance the old town to me.

"If I talk to him, would he go away?" I was hopeful and expectant that after talking to him like the many years ago, he'd disappear again. That was what I was hoping for. I had enough disappointment for a lifetime. I didn't need anymore from him.

"I don't know," she takes a deep breath and pushes it back out into the line.

"Okay." My voice cracks as I move over to sit on a nearby bench.

Now I was away from students who hung with their friends and studied in the warm sun. Here, I wished I were one of them. They had no family issues. They had endless arguments where they spent every holiday fighting about ugly sweaters or who got the most presents. A life I could only dream of.

My mother ended the call and sent me a following text with nine digits. I stare at them with a shaky finger and muffle all the rushing thoughts in my head that tell me to not call.

The loud noise of the ringing echoed through my brain, overpowering every other sense of need and hurt I built my life on.

I fight over the words in my head and wonder what I would say to him. How I would speak. Would I yell at him? Would I cry?

"Hello, Samuel Adams speaking," I pull the phone from my ear as tears sprung to my eyes and fell against my skin onto the bench I had sat on. Hearing him talk again, he sounded the same. Like eight years hadn't affected him in the slightest. "Hello?" He calls out again as I put the phone back to my ear.

"H-hi." I feel my bottom lip tremble and more tears strip down, only to be swatted away by the back of my hand.

"Hello, may I ask who this is?"

"Sorry- I... this is Emma speaking." Not even a breath was heard through the line after I muttered my name. Not even mine.

"Emmiline? My Emmie?" I heard him sniff and shuffle around while I prepared to word out my next sentence. He had no right to call me his.

"Yes... Emmiline, your daughter." I started to well up with more tears as I tried to remain in my most neutral tone.

"I never thought I'd speak to you again." He sniffs again, but this time it sounded more like a cry. "I've missed you so, so much Emma. How are you? Your mother told me you started college? How is that?" He began to tear through questions about my life, answers I couldn't convince myself to respond to.

"Today is my first day," I try to make my voice loud but it came as a raspy whisper. "But it's okay so far."

"I'm so sorry for not contacting you earlier, you have no idea how much I've wanted to. All these years." He showed eagerness through his tone but I didn't believe he was telling the truth.

I really wished I could give him the answers he was looking for: that I missed him, and that I was sorry he left. But how could I miss someone who didn't care about me? How could I miss someone that because of his selfish reasons, caused my everything around me to fall apart.

He was my favourite person once, my hero and my idol, but now he was just a faded memory of a girl who wanted to forget.

Somewhere inside me I found the confidence to speak. "Why didn't you? After all those years, why didn't you call?" My tone was angrier, frustrated with all the things that had happened since his last hug.

"I was afraid of causing more damage than I had." I dig my nails into my palm and try to calm myself, but it didn't do much for me.

"You have no right to call me and tell me you've missed me. You left! You! No one else!" Slowly I break apart, hurting not only him but also myself for closing of my feelings into a bottle with no lid.

"I know..." He breathes out, trying to contain himself from tears. "Please, just let me talk to you, meet you somewhere. I'm not going anywhere, not this time... I promise you."

Between my indifference and hurt, I couldn't bring myself to discuss my life with him. I couldn't have a talk with him and pretend everything was okay when it wasn't.

"I can't. I have class, I need to go." I sniff once more but before I end the call I wait for his answer. I wanted to see if he would say goodbye this time.

"Emma, please. One coffee, one conversation just please let me explain. I owe you a lifetime of apologies but most of all, I owe you the father figure I never gave you. One coffee and after you'll be free of me... if you still want me to go."

He doesn't deserve a chance. He doesn't deserve to have a conversation with me, but he's my father. He is someone who I am supposed to forgive no matter what, because he's my family.

"I don't know..." I wipe away another loose tear and look around campus. Still, students were laughing with their group; noses deep in books while others ate and made jokes.

"Think it over. I won't be going anywhere and you have my number. Call me when you are ready... please." His tone was sad and deprived as he ended his sentence with a pause. "I love you, Emmiline."

It seemed like a lifetime after he pressed the button and ended the call. I had to put myself together and head into my next class quicker than I could let myself cry again.

I pulled my bag over my arms and shoved my phone deep into my pocket as if somehow it would disappear.

I scurried my feet along the big campus to my writing and cultures class where I found a seat at the back. I didn't feel like sitting at the front right now. I wanted to disappear along with my phone and not think about anything.

The rest of the day went quicker than I had thought it would. My apartment door shut behind me and I laid in my bed facing the roof, thinking about my father: what he would look like today. His blue eyes like mine, his wrinkles, all of his features.

My phone sounded next to my head on the pillow. The screen was lit up by Will's name sending me an invitation to coffee sometime. With the first smile after this morning, I text Will back letting him know how delighted I was to see his invitation, and I agreed. We set a date for this week and I placed my phone back down.

The roof seemed a good place to think, so I played some of my favourite piano music and decided that sleep was a good way to move on from today.