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Sophie Love

FOREVER AND A DAY

CHAPTER ONE

“Dad?” Emily repeated.

She stared at the man on her porch step, a man she barely recognized anymore. Silver hair where once before it had been black. The shadow of stubble on his chin. Creases and furrows lining his face. But there was no mistaking it. It was her father.

Words failed her. She couldn’t catch her breath.

The crinkles at the sides of Roy’s eyes deepened as he smiled. “Emily Jane,” he replied.

That’s when Emily knew it was real. He was real. It was her dad.

She ran as fast as she could up the porch steps and threw herself into his arms. She’d imagined this moment so many times, wondering how she would behave if he ever came back to her. In her imagination she’d acted cool, been aloof, had risen above it all by not letting him see the pain his disappearance had caused her, nor the utter relief she felt knowing he was safe. But of course the reality was completely different. Instead of being standoffish, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him like she was a child again.

He was warm, solid. She could feel him breathing hard, each expansion of his lungs betraying his emotions. Her tears came almost immediately. As though in response, she felt his own tears wet her cheeks and neck.

“You came back,” Emily managed to say, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“I did,” Roy replied through deep sobs. “I’m – ”

But he stopped short. Emily knew instinctively that the only word to conclude that sentence was “sorry” but that her father wasn’t yet ready to deal with the torrent of emotions such an utterance would unleash. Emily wasn’t either. She didn’t want to go to those painful places yet. She just wanted to stay in this moment. Bask in it.

She lost track of how much time passed as she and her father stood there holding each other, but she felt a sudden change in the way her father held her, a tensing of his muscles, like he was suddenly uncomfortable. She moved away from him and looked over her shoulder to see where Roy’s gaze was now affixed: Chantelle.

She was standing in the open door of the inn, a look of bemusement on her face as though trying to comprehend the strange scene before her. Emily could read all the questions in her eyes. Who is this man? Why is Emily crying? Why is he? What’s going on?

“Chantelle, honey,” Emily said, extending a hand. “Come here. ”

Emily saw in Chantelle’s hesitation an uncharacteristic shyness.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Emily added.

Chantelle took a few paces toward Emily. “Why is he looking at me like that?” she said in a stage whisper that Roy could clearly hear.

Emily looked at her father. His damp eyes were wide with confusion. He wiped the wetness from his lashes.

“You have a daughter?” he finally stammered, his voice thick with emotion.