Crazy (a Louis Tomlinson love story)

Chapter 18

***Carson’s P.O.V.***

“Knock knock,” a voice called from the other side of the door as I slipped a tank top over my head. I couldn’t exactly tell who it belonged to because the words had been muffled through the fabric of the shirt while I was trying to pull it on. So, I was left to sort of just stare at the door before realizing that I hadn’t given a reply to whoever it was.

“Come in,” I called back, and the door immediately creaked open to reveal my father. He gave me a fond smile while he entered the room with his large strides.

“Hey, Dottie,” he bopped my nose playfully before I scrunched it up and narrowed my eyes at him like I always did when he used the nickname. I used to love polka dots; I would wear dresses and shirts that were covered with them. Eventually, I out grew the phase, but my father refused to let go of the nickname. At least I wasn’t in trouble; he reserved my real name for those times, and well, Louis and I had been a bit obnoxious at the dinner table tonight so he could’ve been mad (don’t ask what happened, but I will say that Louis started it).

“Hey, dad,” I greeted back, letting my accusing features drop and turn into a smile, “what’s up?” For the longest moment, my father just stayed completely quiet and regarded me with a glint in his eyes. I had never seen this sort of emotion from him; I was used to the busy man who was always loving and caring, but never too mushy. The look in his eyes now made me want to curl up into a ball and cry for some odd reason. He seemed so sad, but happy at the same time, and I had no idea of why it was such a heart breaking sight.

“It’s good to have you back for a small bit,” he confessed, and I almost missed the split second change in his pitch. In all my years of living, I had never seen my father cry-he had always done so well at hiding it-and I hoped that today wouldn’t be the first time I did. He was such a strong man, and if something was able to make him cry than that would be something to worry about.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” I wondered with concern laced into my words.

He smiled again, his lips quivering slightly while he did so, and he shook his head, “nothing’s wrong, Dottie. It’s just really nice to see you, and to see you happy. After everything that’s happened to you, you deserve everything that you’ve had since then.”

I cringed a little when he hinted towards what had happened in the past. I had been trying to keep it in the past, but I knew that it would have to rear its head eventually. “Yeah,” I drawled out, letting the word fall from my lips with a small sigh, “thank you.” I had looked down and away from him, but my gaze was redirected when his finger hooked under my chin and made me find his eyes again. I was forced to look back at those conflicted eyes.

“You used to be this small little girl,” he sounded as if he was struggling with the words but he still went on, “you used to always need my help in order to reach the sink when you washed your hands.” My throat constricted at his words and how he was speaking; it was as if he was watching the memories and trying to explain them to me. All the while, he had that sad little smile resting on his features. “And now you’re not a little girl anymore; you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. You’ve found a man who treats you like the queen you are, and I feel like the luckiest father in the world.”

“Dad,” I squeaked out, but I didn’t get to continue the words because he was speaking again.

“And yet,” he mumbled, “I feel like the unluckiest one at the same time.” Finally, the tears that I had expected managed to squeeze their way out of his eyes. One rolled down his cheek for a while until he hastily wiped it away. “I’m so happy for you, but I feel like I’m going to lose you.”