All these years, I didn’t think he was ever affectionate with me. There were so many years of him not being affectionate with me, those are the things I remember the most.
I run my finger over the picture, saddened by whatever happened between us to change our relationship.
“When did you stop treating me like your daughter?”
My father sighs, and his sigh is full of so many things. “I was twenty-one when you were born. I never knew what I was doing with you. It was easier to fake when you were little, but as you grew up, I just…I felt guilty. That guilt started working its way into our time together. I felt like your visits with me were an inconvenience for you.”
I shake my head. “It was the only thing I ever looked forward to.”
“I wish I’d known that,” he says quietly.
I’m starting to wish I’d told him.
If there’s one thing I learned from Samson this summer, it’s that holding everything in accomplishes nothing. It just causes the truth to hurt even worse in the end.
“I had no idea what kind of mother she was, Beyah. Sara told me some things last night that you told her and I just…” His voice sounds shaky, like he’s working to hold back tears. “I did so many things wrong. I have no excuse. You have every right to be resentful because you’re right. I should have fought harder to get to know you. I should have fought harder to spend more time with you.”
My father takes the photo album from me and sets it on the chair next to him. He faces me with an expression full of unease. “I feel like what you’re doing—allowing this guy’s fate to dictate your own future—it’s my fault, because I never set an example for you. But despite that, you turned out to be the amazing person that you are, and that is not because of me. It’s because of you. You’re a fighter, so naturally you want to stay and fight for Samson. Maybe it’s because you see so much of yourself in him. But what if he’s not who you think he is, and you make the wrong decision?”
“But what if he’s exactly who I think he is?”
My father takes my right hand and holds it between both of his. He looks so sincere, staring at me with such raw honesty. “If Samson is the person you think he is, what do you think he would want for you? Do you think he would want you to give up everything you’ve worked for?” I look away from my father, toward the sunrise. I’m holding all my feelings in my throat.
“I love you, Beyah. Enough to admit that you’ve been let down by too many people in your life. Me being one of them. The only person who has ever been completely loyal to you is you. You’re doing yourself a disservice by not putting yourself first right now.”
I lean forward and hold my head in my hands. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know that’s what Samson wants—for me to put myself before him. I just don’t want him to want that for me.
My father rubs his hand over my back, and the feeling is so soothing, I lean into him, wrapping my arms around him. He hugs me back, running a gentle hand over my head.
“I know it hurts,” he whispers. “I wish I could take that pain away from you.”
It does hurt. It’s fucking brutal. It isn’t fair. I finally have something good in my life and now I’m being forced to leave it behind.
They’re right, though. Everyone is right but me. I need to put myself first. It’s what I’ve always done and it’s worked for me so far.
I think about the letter Samson wrote to me, and that last line that got caught up in my heart. Go flood the whole goddamn world, Beyah.
I inhale a gulp of the salty morning air, knowing I won’t get very many more of them before I leave for Pennsylvania. “Will you take care of Pepper Jack Cheese while I’m gone?”
My father sighs with relief. “Of course I will.” He presses a soft kiss into my hair. “I love you, Beyah.”
There’s so much truth in his words, and for the first time, I allow myself to believe him.
This is the moment I release it all. Every single thing from my childhood that’s made my heart so heavy.
I release my anger toward my father.
I even release my anger toward my mother.
The only thing I’m going to hold on to from this point forward are the good things.
I may not be ending the summer with Samson by my side, but I’m ending it with something I didn’t have when I showed up here.
A family.
THIRTY
My roommate is a girl from Los Angeles. Her name is Cierra with a C.