His Girl Charlotte

36

I follow the beautiful Charlotte into the small old folks apartment complex that smells heavily of cigarettes and dust. Wooden patterns cover the walls of the dimly lit area. 

"Papa?" She calls out. Her hand tightens around mine as she guides me to the small kitchen just around the corner of the entrance. 

"Darling." He says, his eyes smiling at the sight of the princess. Her hand pulls away from mine and she wraps her arms around the man who had to raise her. I stand there as they take in each others presences and eventually find the time to shake his hand. 

"Nice to see you again, sir." I nod. 

"You as well, son. Please, please, sit." He motions towards the couches in the living room. 

"How have you been?' I ask him. 

"Great, my granddaughter isn't with an abusive fucker anymore." He sighs, looking at Charlotte with the side of his eye. 

"No, papa, I'm not but lets not keep talking about it. Please." Her eyes widen, begging for him to not bring up the horrifying topic. He groans as he sits beside her on the sofa and I sit on the small chair not wanting to invade their space. He is very protective over her and I don't want to overstep any boundaries there. 

My eyes catch the pile of photos laying out on the floor, spread out everywhere next to a photo album that appears to be somewhat unfinished. 

"Are you into scrapbooking?" I ask. 

He looks at the photos laying on the floor, smiling. "Just organizing and reminiscing." 

"Oh god I haven't looked through those in ages!" Charlottes excitement shows. I am too curious. I slide onto the floor too quickly before looking up at the two watching me. "May I?" I ask.

Charlottes eyes are soft, so is her smile when she nods.

I grab a handful of photos, sit on the cold floor and glance through them. I see baby pictures of Charlotte. Her big brown eyes youthful, full of light. She has her two front teeth missing, her hair wild and dark, tan skin, pink dress. 

"She was six in that photo." Her grandpa says. I flip through to the next and see her at probably age two, a young man holding her close to his chest, his expression loving. 

"Whose this?" I ask her, turning the photo around.

"My dad." She smiles. Oh. Her dad was very handsome, light hair, chiseled jaw, toned body. He was a good father, I can tell by the way he's embracing her. 

Her baby hands are holding onto his shirt over his chest, her big brown eyes smiling into his. This photo pulls so many emotions. This little girl didn't deserve the things that life threw her way.

"This is my mom." She hands me a new picture, one of her mother. Young and beautiful, just like her daughter. She has her mothers big browns eyes, her lovely white teeth and full lips. Her mother has different cheeks, but other than that, the picture could be Charlotte. 

"You look like her." I tell her and she smiles. 

"A little too much, it makes me emotional sometimes." Her grandpa says. 

"They are beautiful women, you are very lucky, sir." I tell him. 

"So are you." He winks at me. He must know about Charlotte and I's relationship. 

"I'm very lucky." I stare at her as she leans against her grandpas shoulder. She smiles at me. I would do anything for her fathers daughter, the one he loved so much, as I do. 

I need to change. I need to do better and be better. No more side chicks, no more Tonia, no more hiding her from my family. This loving bundle of perfection deserves more than what I've given her. Much more.