Verity

Sensitive themes: Familial Alienation, Cursing

Verity watched the world go by through the train window, her heart thundering with anxiety, eagerness, rage, and hope.

Breathe, she commanded herself as her stomach tightened again and the urge to run back to the onboard bathroom grew. Breathe. It's going to be alright. I'll just explain everything to him. Explain that Mom lied. That she manipulated me into believing her bullshit! Verity clenched her fist until her nails bit painfully into her palm, at which point she quickly unclenched and closed her eyes. Breathe. Breathe. That doesn't matter now. I mean...it does. It does a whole Goddamn lot, but... her eyes opened as she looked out the window again on a world that seemed almost mockingly bright, not as much as seeing Dad again and apologizing with every fiber of my being for thinking so badly of him.

A fresh wave of anxiety suddenly engulfed her. No, anxiety wasn't the right word. No, this was stronger than mere anxiety. This was fear.

What if he doesn't accept my apology? What if he doesn't even want to talk to me? After all, why would he? The last time we spoke was my tenth birthday. God, have I really not talked to him in over six years?! That realization brought the first tears to her eyes. He was trying to wish me happy birthday and not only did I accuse him of all those terrible things, but I told him I destroyed the present he sent me just to hurt him. I even... her eyes filled with tears as her breath became shallow and desperate... I even said I wish he wasn't my dad.

She had to cover her mouth to prevent her cry from echoing through the train car.

I...I can still hear the way his voice shook when he said that he was sorry and that, no matter what, he loved me and wished me the best. What was he apologizing for? I was the one who should have been sorry! Sorry for believing Mom's lies and evil bullshit! She covered her eyes with her hand as two pitiful waterfalls of regret descended her cheeks. I'm so sorry Dad. I'm so...so damn sorry.

A sudden buzzing from her pocket pulled made her drop her hand so she could pull out her phone. The moment she saw the name on the screen, all her misery was replaced by blood-boiling rage.

Speak of the Devil, she mentally hissed.

"Verity, where are you? I know those old emails paint a bad picture, but that's no reason to just run off without telling me. Please just come back home so that we can talk about this and I can explain things."

The text made her positively volcanic and she didn't even try to restrain herself before she responded.

"Go to Hell you lying bitch! I'm not ever coming back and I'm certainly not going back so you can gaslight me into believing all your bullshit!" she texted furiously before blocking her mother and focusing the world outside the train.

I don't care what it takes, I'll make it up to you Dad. Even if I have to climb Mountain Everest on my knees or kiss a snake! That last thought actually made her shiver, but she quickly quashed her disgust as she vowed again. Whatever it takes.

Red-eyed, anxious, but determined, Verity spent the next few hours taking deep breaths and reciting what she would say when she saw her father again.

This appears to be the place, she thought as she looked at the address. Hopefully the information Aunt Ellen gave me is still good.

Her heart was thundering again, but she managed to slowly approach the door of the house and, after taking the deepest breath of her life, she knocked.

She heard movement almost immediately, which sent a fresh wave of nervousness through every corner of her body. However, just as she began to worry that she would puke on the nearby lilies, the door opened and all anxiety flew out from her mind and was replaced by an emotion that she wasn't sure existed in the English language.

Dad.

The man before her was her father, she knew that without a shadow of a doubt, yet at the same time, he was so different from the man she remembered. For one, the smile that he used to have ready-made for her was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a deep, painful frown. His hair, once an earthy brown was mostly gray now, as if he had aged not six years, but sixteen. Worst of all though, his eyes, once so bright, were now dark husks surrounded by even darker circles.

The wretched sight utterly robbed Verity of her planned speech as the knife of guilt stabbed straight into her heart at the same time it and ghostly hand grabbed her throat and squeezed.

Her father, for his part, simply stared at her. Initially, all she saw was confusion in his eyes, but soon that confusion changed and was replaced by recognition.

"Verity?" he croaked.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode as hearing him say her name again filled her with another wave of joy, guilt, and fear, all of which prevented her from speaking. Yet, she needed to answer him for fear that, if she didn't, he would close the door on her. As such, she forced herself to nod, though even that proved remarkably difficult.

Her father blinked a few times and then slowly, as if he was afraid she would disappear, he reached out and cupped her cheek.

"It...it's really you," he whispered as light began to return to his eyes. "You're really here."

"Y-Yes," she finally forced out. "I-I'm here. I...I found out...about everything. About all of Mom's lies. About everything she did," she sputtered out.

Her father just kept staring at her as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"D-Dad...I-I'm s-so...so..." Verity began, only to suddenly be pulled into a shockingly strong embrace.

"My girl. My sweet baby girl," her father mumbled into her hair as his arms tightened around her.

The tears began to flow again as Verity wrapped her arms around her father and sobs wracked her body.

"I-I'm sorry!" she cried. "I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry!"

"Shhh. It's okay, sweetheart. You have nothing to apologize for," her father assured her.

"Yes I do!" she bellowed as she buried her face into his chest. "I s-shouldn't have b-believed all those t-terrible things about you! I shouldn't have! I-I should have trusted you!"

"It's okay, sweetheart," he repeated as he softly stroked her hair in an effort to comfort her.

"No it's not!" she declared, pulling back enough to look up at him, not caring for a moment that her face was covered in snot and tears. "I should have believed you and I swear, I swear, I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you!"

Despite his evident shock, her father smiled and, for a moment, he almost looked like he did when she was younger.

Maybe...there's hope, Verity thought right before her father leant down and kissed her forehead.

"Just having you in my arms again is more than enough," he assured her. "However, I would love to hear what my baby girl's been up to since I last saw her."

Verity nodded firmly.

"I can do that."

His smile grew just a bit larger at that and he hugged her one last time.

"Then let's go inside and I'll make apple cider," he offered, before his smile dropped and look that combined nervousness and fear appeared in its place. "Is...is that still your favorite?"

The trepidation in his voice felt like a punch to the gut and Verity couldn't nod quickly enough.

"Yes! Definitely!"

As quickly as it left, his smile returned and he nodded back with the same enthusiasm.

"Glad to hear it. Come on, we can make it together."

Verity beamed and eagerly followed him inside, ready to tell him everything over a nice hot cup of apple cider.