The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

“You’re not going to lose me,” I groaned, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs.

“I am.” He nodded sadly, his face twisting with remorse. “You’re grown up now. You’re going to get married, buy a house, and have your own children now.”

“Whoa.” I held up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away.”

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged. “When you guys left I finally realized it was time for me to accept facts. You’re not my little girl anymore. I have to let you go, and that’s okay because I’ll always have my memories. When I look around this house I’ll hear the echo of your voice and laughter. I’ll remember the first time you said Dada.” He smiled sadly. “When I look up the steps I’ll remember the first time you came running down dressed in your ballerina outfit.” His face crumpled and he sniffed. “When I’m in the kitchen I’ll remember making cookies with you and your mom and how you used to stand on the tops of my feet and tell me to dance with you.”

Tears streamed freely down my face and I batted them away hastily.

“When I pull into the driveway I’m going to remember teaching you to ride your bike and cleaning your knees anytime you skinned them. And the big tree in the backyard? I’ll never forget the day you fell and broke your arm and called me your hero when I came running for you.” He wiped at his own tears. “I’ve been your hero for nineteen years Willow, and now I realize that it’s time for someone else to be your hero.”

“Daddy.” I crumbled and dove into his open arms.

He held me tight, reminding me with the strength of his sturdy arms that he would never truly let me go.

I wasn’t like most kids.

I didn’t grow up hating my parents and wishing for new ones.

I firmly believed I had the best ones out there.

Letting go wasn’t easy, but it was something we all had to do eventually.

My dad set me down and kissed my forehead like he’d done from the moment I was born—I had the pictures to prove it—and from the doorway we both heard a sniffle.

We looked up to find my mom standing in the doorway, crying her eyes out.

“Oh, you two,” she whispered, clutching at her chest. “You hurt my heart in the best way possible.”

“Come here.” My dad waved a hand towards her. “Group hug time. Bring it in.”

We opened our arms to allow my mom into the hug.

We stood there for what felt like forever.

I was afraid to let go, knowing that once I did it would forever alter everything. I knew things had to change. Without change we could not grow. But change was hard to accept.

Eventually we all had to let go and we dabbed at our faces, laughing awkwardly.

“There’s something important I need to talk about with you guys.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, conveying in my body language that my mind had been made up on this.

My dad sat down in the chair behind him and my mom sat on the arm of it. My dad lovingly rubbed her back and she smiled down at him.

I took a deep breath and jumped straight in—it was how I approached life I figured this conversation should be no different.

“I’m not going back to school.”

My dad raised a single brow. “Why do you look like you’re about to head to battle?”

I paused, lowering my chin and shoulders. A deep breath I didn’t know I’d been holding surged past my lips. “Because I also don’t know what I want to do.”

My parent’s exchanged a look and busted into laughter.

I stood, shocked. I didn’t know what to make of this. This kind of reaction hadn’t been one I was prepared for at all.

“Why are you laughing?” I was truly confused.

My mom was the first to sober. “Oh honey. I didn’t know what I wanted to do either. I finally decided I wanted to pursue songwriting after a lot of thought. I was a bit younger than you when I finally figured it out, but that’s okay.” She stood and took two steps towards me, clasping my hands in hers. “You jumped headfirst into college, like you do most things, and your dad and I talked about how we thought it might not have been the best idea. We want you to do whatever it is that makes you happy. Take time. Live your life. Everything will fall into place and when it does trust your gut and you can’t go wrong.” Patting my cheek she said, “You’re going to do great things baby girl. Of that I’m sure.”