All Rights Reserved // Niall Horan

Chapter Three

"I'm sure your dad loves you Kelsea,"

I sighed deeply, trying to hide the misery. I gave her a nod because somehow, I knew it was true.

"He probably didn't want to see you flying away from his life. It would just be harder for the both of you. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. Thank you." I paused and looked at her, "For everything"

"Everything? I haven't done much sweetie"

Sweetie. It felt so endearing to be called as something other than your name. It was never an option for mom to call me something other than my real name; the name that she probably didn't even chose herself. She would always call me Kelsea Shey, even refusing to call me as Kels.

"Just, thank you, in advance"

I didn't know what got into me. I just found myself making my way towards her and giving her a tight hug. It was a hug that was only meant for people I loved. I consider this deeply as a sign of thanking her. Thanking her for saving us; for starting to pick up the broken pieces when none of us would even too soon. Hugging her felt like the best thing to do at the moment. It would feel wrong if I failed to show her any signs of appreciation.

*     *     *

Aunt Matell helped me stroll my luggage out the house's front door. I looked back inside my home before completely shutting the door, slowly having an overview on how much I'd actually miss this place. I silently wondered when would be the next time I'd step foot in this house. It contained thousands and thousands of memories of dad and I, and I'm not going to lie, leaving it felt all wrong. I touched the golden knob and shut the door too gently, not wanting to make a single scratch.

I left dad a simple note by the kitchen counter before leaving, writing it down just minutes before we marched through that door. I wrote it just so he had something to remind of me. Secretly, I wished he had something to remind me of him as well. It's not like I'd forget him, it would just be such a wonderful feeling to know that I have something left of him in my hands. A proof that he'd is still be here with me no matter what.

Hi dad,

This sucks. I don't know how I should feel about this. It's distressing to be leaving right away, without even letting my head fully wrap around it—without letting my heart get ready for it. I wish things went on differently. I wish you never fell into her. I wish you never got the child. Heck, I wish you never even got into the job! But that's the thing dad, I just wish. Everything had already happened and there's nothing we can do to prevent it from occurring. Only solve it.

Something in my gut is telling me that I should be mad. I know I should be mad at you. There's anger deep down inside of me in the depths of my heart and soul. But I don't feel it. Not for you. Not even a single bit do I feel any anger towards you or much worse, hatred. The only anger I have inside is for the experiences; the experiences that I wished hadn't happened but did.

Ever since mom left, we hadn't been ourselves. Or maybe, we were never really ourselves when mom was there. She didn't love us. She didn't care one bit, did she? Because she left. People that love you don't leave. People that love you just don't give up. People that love you will hold on to one reason to stay despite all the million reasons to leave. Because they love you. People that love you will stay. Or maybe she was done staying? She was tired of staying? I can never get the concept of that. How could you get tired of loving someone? One minute they're your world and the next they're someone you're willing to forget. Why? How?

I really wish you showed up right now dad. I wish you were here to hug me goodbye, to kiss me on the forehead, to tell me everything's going to be alright. I wish I had that assurance that I was going to be okay, that this was for the better. But I didn't. I only wished. I understand that staying would be harder for the both of us. I know that it would be too difficult for us to say goodbye to each other, much more to let go. But I just thought it was even more difficult for me to go without seeing you for one last time, without the slightest assurance that I'd be back as soon as possible.