Saylor

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately,” I apologize.

“You’re busy. I get it.”

I scoff. “Says the guy who gave me a solid scolding as soon as I walked in the door.”

“I just want you to be able to talk to me,” he pleads. “You’re my baby girl.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” I admit, peeking at him from over the rim of my mug.

“And I’m afraid that’s on me. You're my firstborn, Say. And unfortunately, that means you’re kind of the guinea pig for your mother and me. We had to make a lot of mistakes with you––”

“You didn’t make a lot of mistakes with me, Dad.”

“Yes, I did, but you’re nice enough not to point them out.” He smiles, then takes a sip of his hot beverage before sobering slightly. “Parenting is hard, Say. It’s not a walk in the park. I’m afraid that one of my biggest regrets is how I handled seeing you fall in love at such a young age.”

I frown and touch his arm. “You were right, though, Dad. We were young and stupid. It would’ve never lasted––”

“That’s the thing though, Say. It has lasted,” he argues. “You haven’t even been in the same state for the majority of your break up, but the distance didn’t matter. I see how heavily it weighs on you, even after all this time. Even when your sisters convinced you to date again, even when he wound up becoming a father to a child that didn’t belong to you. You still care about him. You still love him.”

“Dad…,” I choke out, my voice cracking.

“It’s okay that you love him, Say. That’s where I went wrong, and that’s what I wanted to tell you today. I didn’t know how to support your relationship the first time around, and that’s on me. I was terrified you’d wind up married before you were even a legal adult and that you’d end up regretting it, which was the one thing I was trying to teach you while growing up.”

“Live life without regret,” I murmur.

“Exactly. Yet the biggest regret you’ve ever had is back in town, and you don’t know how to handle it. When he left, I told you good riddance. I told you to stay strong and move on. I told you that you’d find someone else to make you happy. To marry. To have babies with. To build a life with. And you know I don’t believe in soulmates,” he reminds me, “but if I did, I’d say he’s yours. I’m afraid that you don’t feel like you have my blessing because of the things I told you, and that’s why you’ve been avoiding us.”

“Dad-–”

He sets his hand on my knee and squeezes softly. “Let me finish, Sweet Pea. The only thing I want for you is to be happy. That’s it. That’s all I want. My daughters to be happy. Pretty simple, right?”

I smile back at him.

“Whether it’s alone in your work or by jumping out of airplanes with parachutes strapped to your back, I just want you to be happy and to enjoy life. Because it’s meant to be lived to the fullest. Don’t let your fear hold you back from that, Say. I’m afraid I stoked that fear and stubbornness when you came to me all those years ago after he broke your heart. That’s on me, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that, Dad,” I beg him, hating the way his eyes shine as he stares out at the snow-covered horizon.

“Did he make you happy?” he asks.

I swallow thickly and give him a jerky nod.

“Does he still make you happy when you aren’t terrified of losing him again?”

Again, I nod.

“Then give him a chance, Sweet Pea. And if you two don’t work out, that’s okay. But at least you’ll know for sure instead of being torn apart by your past and the potential for what you could’ve been.”

Dropping my head to his shoulder, I feel his warm lips press to my forehead as the expanse glows with white, fluttering snowflakes. He was right. There’s a storm coming.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Say. I’m so sorry––”

“Stop apologizing,” I scold him before lifting my head to give him a teasing smile. “You’re the best dad a girl could ever ask for, and I’m not just saying that. As for He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I’ll think about it.”

He quirks his brow, pulling a laugh from me before I add, “I promise.”

“And you’ll let yourself be happy?”