“Don’t be,” I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You just dodged a bullet. And I just learned a lesson I should have learned twenty years ago.”
The next six months were the hardest of my life. Vanessa lost the house. She moved into a tiny apartment with three roommates. She blocked my number. I heard from family friends that she was badmouthing me to anyone who would listen, calling me a miser who abandoned his daughter. It hurt, deeply. But I didn’t reach out. I didn’t send money.
She looked different. She was wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt, no designer labels in sight. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she looked tired. She didn’t look like the princess I had raised; she looked like a person.
She walked up to the counter. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, Vanessa,” I said, wary.
She took a deep breath. “I’m not here for money.”
I waited.
“I’m working,” she said. “I got a job as an administrative assistant at a dental office. It pays… okay. I’m paying my own rent. It sucks. The apartment is small, and my roommates are loud.”
“That sounds like life,” I said.
“Yeah,” she looked down at her hands. “I saw Marcus the other day. He was with someone else. She looked nice.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I messed everything up, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I said gently.
“I was so angry at you,” she said, wiping a tear away. “But… I think I get it now. I was drowning, and I thought you were the boat. But I was the one drilling the holes.”
I walked around the counter and hugged her. It was the first time in years she hugged me back without wanting something. She cried into my shoulder, smelling of cheap soap instead of expensive perfume.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she sobbed. “I’m really sorry.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m here. I’m not going to give you money, but I’ll buy you lunch.”
She laughed, a wet, hiccupping sound. “I’d like that. I’m starving, and pay day isn’t until Friday.”
