Chapter 4 - The Father Who Came Back
I stood so quickly that the chair scraped across the kitchen floor.
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Derek laughed softly.
He used to do that when he wanted me to feel unreasonable for asking a reasonable question.
“My sister saw you downtown with him.”
“We were at the bank.”
“So it’s serious.”
I closed my eyes.
“What do you want?”
“To see my daughters.”
For eight months, he had answered messages whenever it suited him. He had missed Rosie’s birth, ignored photographs, and sent seventy-five dollars once with the note, Hope that helps.
Now he said my daughters as though he had been away on an ordinary business trip.
“I’ve asked you to visit,” I said. “You canceled.”
“I’ve been getting my life together.”
“Then we can discuss a consistent plan.”
“I’m their father. I don’t need an appointment.”
“You need to consider what they know and what they’ve experienced.”
He went quiet.
I heard traffic behind him.
“Don’t let your new boyfriend put ideas in your head.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Then why is he paying your bills?”
My stomach tightened.
I ended the call after telling Derek to communicate by text.
Then I called the family resource center.
They referred me to a legal aid attorney named Lena Ortiz.
At our first meeting, she asked questions without making me feel foolish.
Were Derek and I married?
No.
Was paternity legally established for both children?
Yes.
Was there a custody order?
No.
Had he threatened me?
Not directly.
Lena explained that the absence of an order made getting clear arrangements important. She didn’t promise to erase Derek from our lives because he had been selfish.
She helped me document what had happened and apply for appropriate support and custody orders.
“Keep your messages factual,” she said. “You’re creating a record, not winning an argument.”
I wrote that sentence on a sticky note.
Two days later, Derek appeared outside our apartment.
He carried a stuffed unicorn with a price tag still attached.
Ellie stood behind my leg.
“Hi, princess.”
She looked up at me.
“Is that Daddy?”
He flinched.
I had spent months protecting his memory for her.
Now he could hear what his absence had done.
“Yes,” I said gently.
He crouched with the toy.
“Come give me a hug.”
Ellie didn’t move.
“Would you like to say hello from here?” I asked.
She nodded.
Derek stood.
“You’ve turned her against me.”
“She’s three.”
He looked past me into the apartment.
New formula cans stood on the counter. The electricity notice was no longer taped beside the refrigerator.
His mouth tightened.
“Looks like you’re doing fine.”
“We’re doing better.”
“Thanks to Brooks?”
I kept my hand against the doorframe.
“This isn’t a conversation for the girls.”
“Then let me in.”
“No.”
For a moment, I thought he might push past me.
Instead, he placed the unicorn on the floor.
“Have your lawyer call mine.”
After he left, Ellie asked why he looked angry.
“Grown-ups have to work out grown-up things.”
“Because I didn’t hug?”
I knelt immediately.
“No. You never owe someone a hug to keep them happy.”
She leaned against me.
I held her until my knees hurt.
That afternoon, I got the job at the community health center.
Twenty-eight hours a week to start, with the possibility of full-time work after training.
I cried before the woman finished describing the schedule.
Then I laughed, apologized once, and accepted.
The resource center helped me arrange childcare support. Tessa offered backup pickups. I bought one pair of practical shoes for work.
For the first time, the future had dates on it.
Start date.
Payday.
Training day.
Nathaniel sent a brief email after hearing from me about the interview result.
Congratulations. You earned this.
No suggestion that I owed him the news.
No question about Derek.
I replied that I had accepted the position.
Then I added that the children’s father had returned.
Nathaniel called only after asking whether I wanted to talk.
He listened while I explained.
“Do you want advice?” he asked when I finished.
“No.”
“All right.”
That nearly undid me.
Before we hung up, he said the property review had found inconsistencies in the account assigned to Cedar Lane Dentistry.
“An outside team is examining them.”
“Who managed it?”
“My chief operating officer. Owen Mercer.”
I recognized the name.
Derek had mentioned him once, months before leaving.
I walked to the drawer where I kept old household paperwork.
Beneath expired warranties and birthday cards, I found Derek’s last work contract.
At the top was the name of a maintenance company.
May you like
Mercer Site Services.
And Derek’s signature was at the bottom.
