Page 24 of Sidelined Love

We continue talking about potential dog names and what adjustments he might need to make to our home to make a dog the most comfortable. Then our conversation shifts through other lighthearted topics and shared memories, and I start to feel more connected to him than I have in a while.

Our waitress returns and places our dishes before us. We eat mostly in silence, and once again, it's a comfortable one. The food is absolutely delicious, and I can tell by the way Dad is licking his lips, he's thinking the same.

As we finish dinner, Dad looks over at me and asks, “Do you want something for dessert as well?”

I shake my head immediately. There is no way I can fit another ounce of food into my body right now. With a heavy breath, I lean back in my chair, patting my full stomach. Dad smiles at my exaggerated gesture and takes a final sip of his water. Once he places the glass down, he looks back at me and every hair on my body stands at attention because of the look on his face.

“Hailey, there's something else I wanted to tell you.”

“What's up?” I ask quietly.

His hands fold together on the table as he leans forward slightly. “I've been doing a lot of thinking,” he starts and clears his throat before he continues. “About us, about our family… and where we are in life. This kind of goes hand in hand with my thinking about getting a dog, but it's not quite the same.”

I nod encouragingly, thankful that this doesn't sound like he's sick or anything like that. However, I'm still unsure of what he's about to say.

“And I've realized that, well, it's been quite some time since your mother left.” He stops to gather his thoughts. “I've spent these years focused on you and work, and I have no regrets. Rebuilding our lives when it was just you and me was hard, but now, it's something I would never change.”

I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. Dad rarely, if ever, talks about Mom leaving. It's like an unspoken agreement between us—a chapter that has already been written in a book that is shut and put on a shelf to collect dust.

“But lately,” he goes on, his eyes now holding mine, “I think it might be time for me to start considering the idea of dating again.”

The words hang in the air between us. I blink several times as I process them, and I'm not completely sure why it's so hard for the words to sink in. My father, the man who seemed perpetually content with his routine, is thinking about dating again.

Dating.

And here I am, thinking the strangest thing he's going to say tonight is about wanting a dog.

The concept is so strange when applied to him that it takes me a moment to find my voice.

“Dating?” I repeat as if I don't understand him.

He nods slowly. “Yes, dating.”

“It's been years, Dad. You deserve happiness… someone to share your life with.” But even as I say those words, there'ssomething in the back of my mind that speaks up. It’s concerned about change and the fear that comes along with it.

“Sweetheart, I haven't made a decision yet. And this doesn't change anything between us,” he reassures me.

I manage a small smile despite the swirl of emotions within me. “I know it doesn't,” I reply softly. “And I want you to be happy.”

The silence that follows is not the same comfortable one we had while eating. Or maybe I'm assuming it's not because I'm not sure what to think.

Dad reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. “I wanted you to know first before I made any steps. I don't want to blindside you with any of this.”

All I can do is nod.

We stay like that for a few moments, and when our waitress comes by again, it jolts us back to the present.

“Is everything alright? Can I get you anything else?”

“No, we're good, but can I get the check?”

Once Dad takes care of the bill, we leave the restaurant and walk toward where our cars are parked next to each other. That was intentional on my part.

The afternoon breeze is gentle, playing with the strands of my hair that have fallen out of my bun.

“I'm sorry for catching you off guard with what I said back there. I wasn't sure how to bring it up.”

“It's completely fine. I just wasn't expecting it.” When we stop at my car, I turn back to him and say, “I meant everything I said back there. I want you to be happy.”

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