Chapter 7: The Daughter Who Finally Called
Three days after they left, Sarah called me.
It was the first time she had reached out since the night of the dinner. I let the phone ring twice before answering.
“Dad?” Her voice was small. “Can we talk?”
I was sitting on the balcony of my new apartment, watching the sunset. I didn’t feel angry anymore. Just tired.
“I’m listening,” I said.
She was quiet for a moment.
“I… I don’t know where to start,” she finally said. “Michael and I are staying in a motel right now. We can only afford it for another week. After that, we don’t know what we’re going to do.”
I didn’t respond.
Sarah continued, her voice cracking slightly.
“I know we messed up. I know we were wrong. But Dad… we really thought you didn’t have anything. You never told us about the properties. You never told us about the money. We thought you were struggling.”
“You never asked,” I said calmly. “You assumed. And when you assumed I had nothing, you decided I was no longer useful.”
Sarah was quiet again.
Then she said something that surprised me.
“I’m sorry. Not because we got caught. But because… I let Michael talk to you like that. I should have stopped him. I should have defended you. You’re my father. You raised me alone after Mom died. And I just sat there.”
I closed my eyes.
For years, I had told myself that Sarah was just influenced by Michael. That deep down, she still cared. Hearing her say those words now made something ache in my chest.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” she said. “But I want you to know that I’m ashamed of how we treated you. And I want to fix it… if you’ll let me.”
I was quiet for a long time.
Then I said, “We’ll talk. But not tonight. And not about moving back in. That door is closed.”
“I understand,” she whispered.
After we hung up, I sat on the balcony for a long time, thinking about my daughter.
May you like
I still loved her. That hadn’t changed.
But trust… trust would take much longer to rebuild.
