(RIVALS) The Upside of Falling ✔️

Chapter 63: Forgiveness

Becca

The woman smiled at me for a moment, saying nothing from the other side of the doorway. I tried to peer around her figure, interested in what my father's house looked like.

"Is he here?" I asked, repeating my question and returning my gaze to hers.

"Right," She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I apologize. It's just nice to finally meet you, Becca. Your father has told me so much about you and seeing you in person ... It's a bit surreal."

"He has?" I couldn't mask the surprise in my voice. Was it wrong for me to have assumed my father wouldn't waste his time telling his new girlfriend about the daughter he left behind?

Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, her head nodding. She couldn't be any more than five years older than me and a lot of years younger than my father.

"All the time." Her voice was gentle as she answered my question. As badly as I wanted to dislike her, I couldn't seem to. She extended her hand towards me and I stared at it for a moment before reaching out and shaking it slowly. "I'm Amy. It's nice to officially meet you."

Amy. Finally, the stranger had a name.

I decided to ignore how similar her name was to my mothers.

"You too," I replied awkwardly.

I wanted to rip my hand out of hers. I wanted her to stop smiling at me so kindly. I wanted her to do something to justify my dislike for her but she never faltered.

I felt my palms become sweaty as my nerves set in. Somewhere in this house was my father and now, everything was beginning to feel very real. I felt frozen in place as Amy's voice caught my attention.

"I know this must be strange for you." She said sheepishly as she crossed her arms over her chest. I stood there, feeling growingly uncomfortable as the seconds passed, as her gaze wandered over my shoulder. Her eyebrows pulled together as she undoubtedly spotted Brett's car and his figure inside it.

"That's my boyfriend," I replied absentmindedly.

Amy nodded as her eyes met mine again. The silence swelled between us and I racked
my brain for something to say to break through the ice. I took a deep breath. I had come here to speak to my father, not to make small talk with his girlfriend.

"My dad --" I began when Amy's voice interrupted.

"He's probably in his office with his nose stuck in a book. I'll go get him." I ignored her comment about my father's familiar book obsession as the door opened wider, gesturing her hand towards the inside of the house. "Want to come in?"

The curious part of me wanted to say yes; wanted to wander around this house and see if there were photos of myself anywhere; to see where my father lived and find any remains of the man I used to know. But the rational part of me answered.

"I'll just wait out here." Going inside felt too personal, like I was crossing some invisible line and there would be no return from there onwards.

Amy smiled before she walked away and disappeared down a hallway. Once her footsteps faded, I openly looked through the doorway and at the small bit of the house I could see. The walls were painted a light yellow, a narrow stairway led upstairs with pictures lining the wall. I spotted my father and Amy's face in every one of them, but I couldn't look close enough to see how my father had aged in the past six years.