I was never that close to my parents, when I was four my mom had run away with some rich guy leaving my dad and I behind. And my dad had been so depressed he turned his focus to his work which ultimately made him extremely successful by the time I was ten. He had become so rich that he purchased a mansion with that money and invested along with running his business just as a fuck you to my mom when she came crawling back after she saw my dad had money. My father, Michael, never expected much out of me, instead he told me to focus on school and get good grades, I wasn't forced into lessons or anything. He didn't make me clean or do chores unless I wanted to which I was fine with doing my room and ultimately, he was never bothered to care. Which caused me to be distant from my dad, it wasn't until college when he decided to reach out again. I was in my third year of college and had just turned 21. He had asked me to come home for the two-week winter break which was usually spent with friends or on campus.
It was a shock to hear that he wanted me to come home, it was the first time he asked me to do so in the last three years. So, when I saw the message a couple of days after finals when it was the week before you had to leave campus. I immediately packed up my belongings and did a walk through with the RA before I bought the first plane ticket home. I had messaged my dad the details of when I would be landing and sat on the plane feeling somewhat hopeful. It's not every day when your dad asks you to come home after years of him being distant with you. So, when he finally asks, of course I was going to feel excited, maybe a little too excited for my own good. Worry began to hit as the plane got ready to land, what if he had suddenly gotten busy? What if he doesn't show up? What if I get stranded at the airport because my dad took a last-minute trip to Peru or something? When the plane finally landed, I anxiously grabbed my things and made my way to the baggage claims to grab my suitcase. I looked at conveyor belt waiting for the pink suitcase to show and once it did, I grabbed it and checked the tag to make sure it was mine.
I made my way out of the airport where I saw a black car and saw Charles, my dad's driver, stand there holding a sign with my name. I walked over to the car, "Welcome home Ms. Mila." He said, I smiled gently,
"Hello Charles." I said as he opened the door for me, I got in the backseat which was empty as Charles put I luggage in the back seat. Once he was done, he got into the driver side of the car and started it. "Where is my dad?" I asked,
"Back at the house Ms. Mila, waiting for your arrival." He said, my heart jumped in excitement. My dad was waiting for me, not doing business meetings or work, but waiting for me. Charles drove as I texted I dad that I was on I way home with Charles. I had never been so excited to send that message. When I got to the mansion, I opened the door expected to be greeted by Dad but my expectations immediately dropped to disappointment when I only saw the butler standing there. "Welcome home Mila," Frank, the old butler, had said with a calm voice. "Your dad is waiting for you in his study." I sat there confused, my dad hated when I went into his study especially if he is working. Frank began walking and I followed after him. He stopped at the door of his study and I stood there weary.
"Frank, is my dad, okay?" I asked him, Frank had a look on his face, of slight worry.
"I don't know, he traps himself in there most of his days. This is the first he's reached out." He admitted, I chewed on my bottom lip and sighed knocking on the door lightly. When I didn't get an answer, I pulIed it open, my dad sat at his desk, he had looked different since the last time I saw him which was when I left for college. My dad has always had this younger look too him. The more he got older the younger his appearance was. He had reached the age of 47 recently and he looked like he hadn't aged a bit other than the beard he had growing and the grey in his dark black hair began to show. He typed at his desk,
"Give me a minute Mila, just finishing this last-minute email." He said staring at his computer wearing his reading glasses. I stood there awkwardly, my hands clenching the bottom of my baby blue skirt as I waited. I never understood how my mom could leave my dad, he was handsome, he had always been handsome in the pictures my grandparents had shown me. They always described him as kind and outgoing, selfless even, always providing for others. Seeing when she only came back for his money was also annoying, because he was better looking than her now husband. He was better than him anyway I had ever heard, and I couldn't believe my mom threw it away for a man who was rich. Now my dad is better looking and richer than him, "There we go," he said as he finished looking at the computer and looked up at me. "Mila," he said with a smile as he stood up from his desk.
"Let's get a good look at you," He walked over me still smiling, his hands on my shoulder as I looked up at him, now that I thought about it, Dad was taller than the guy too. "I have missed you." He said pulling me into his arms giving me a hug. This was different, the most physical affection my dad has ever given me was a pat on my shoulder. I slowly hugged him back, taking in his smell, he didn't wear any of the heavy cologne most of the guys wore at my college. It was subtle smell that lingers in the nose, it was nice, not too strong but strong enough for someone to notice. He pulled away staring at me again,
"I missed you too?" It came out more as a question, I did miss him, a lot but it was strange seeing him stand here like this, hugging me.
