Page 95 of You Found Me
At first I thought he was only doing it for show—and maybe he was. Though now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I realize that it’s just who he is as a person.
Showing he cares in a million little ways.
When I get within reach, he grabs my hand, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me. The kind of kiss that sends tingles all throughout my body, like I’ve been struck by lightning.
The kind of kiss a person hopes they have at least once in their lifetime. And I have it now.
He pulls away slowly then kisses my forehead. “You ready to go, Shortstack?”
“I am. Can we go to your place? I want to talk to you, and I don’t want Mia holding up a glass to my door.”
“Of course.”
Rather than push me to talk on the way home, he let the radio fill the space and held my hand. Grounding me, letting me know he’s here for me, no matter what I’ve got going on in my head.
After getting inside, I shower quickly using the body scrub and wash I left last time I was here. He’s sitting on his bed, with a shirt and boxers for me. I put them on in a rush and climb onto my side of the bed.
And that makes me come to the realization that this is more serious than I thought.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s nothing bad. I wanted to know if you’d sit with me while I look up my bio dad? If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I can do it tomorrow or something. I’m feeling a little anxious about it and thought it might be better if I had someone with me. I wanted that someone to be you.”
“Emmy, of course I want to be here for you when you do this. It’s a big deal for you and it means a lot to me that you’re choosing me to help.”
“You don’t think it’s silly to look him up?” I ask him.
“Not at all. I think it’s natural to want to know who makes up the other half of your DNA. And no matter what, Andrew is still your dad. He’s known your whole life that you weren’t biologically his, but he choseto be your dad and helped shape you into the incredible woman sitting beside me, he is your dad in every way that matters,” he squeezes my hand. “Do you know his name?”
“Yeah. I talked to my parents about this yesterday. Mom gave me his full name but then immediately excused herself and I didn’t see her before I left. Dad was really supportive which made me feel better.”
“Well,” he says, walking over to his dresser, grabbing his laptop. “Let’s see what we can find.”
He hands it to me, and I quickly type in the name,Richard Miller.
Immediately, pages upon pages pop up of him and his accolades . . . and I recognize him. He’s a sports newscaster who goes by Rick and is someone I’d watch frequently on TV when I couldn’t be there for Chance in person. He’s funny and sharp. And I always liked that even though he was this professional persona, he didn’t gel his hair down to tame it. It was wavy and slightly messy.
I have his hair.
The hair I have a love-hate relationship with comes from the man who didn’t want me. That somehow seems to track with my string of luck.
I go back and find the link to his Facebook and see he has tons of photos with a woman a little older than me. The woman, Quinn, doesn’t have the same last name. Instead, she’s using what I imagine is her middle name, Eloise, as her last name.
Could she be his girlfriend? My stomach feels like I swallowed lead just thinking about how he left us to pursue women half his age.
Deciding I’ve seen enough, I close the laptop and tell Spencer I just want to go to sleep. “Thank you for doing this with me. I think I’m going to go home.”
“Buttercup, I’ll do anything you ask of me. Happily. And I can’t begin to understand what you’re feeling right now, I get it if you want to be alone. But I want to let you know that you don’t have to be.”
“Thank you, Spence. It means a lot that you want to be here for me. I really just want to go get in my bed and process everything. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I kiss him quickly before leaving. Crossing my fingers and toes that Mia isn’t in the shared space of the apartment. I love her to death, but I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I want to wallow and dwell on thewhat ifsof my life.
Like what if Richard had stuck around? Would I be the person I am today? Would he have even stayed in the long run? I mean if he so easily went back to his ex, who’s to say he wouldn’t have left my mom for someone else eventually. Someone younger like the woman in his profile picture.
My torment of never feeling like the first pick with significant others, would’ve been much worse if he’d chosen us only to decide to leave later in life. So, I guess thanks for saving me that bit of early trauma, sperm donor.
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