He hadn't changed much but for the lines of stress and unhappiness embedded in his forehead, and she stared at him with a restricted sense of denial.

Surely it couldn't be him, could it? It couldn't be the same man who, without giving her any sensible reason, had told her countless times that he couldn't stand the sight of her.

What did he want anyways? To once again declare his hate for her mother? A hate who's roots she'd never been given the prerogative of knowing.

“Emma...” He started hesitantly, and if Emma didn't have firsthand experience of how cold and stone hearted he could be, she could've swore his voice wavered with emotion. Then he called her the one thing she'd grown tired of yearning to be called many years ago, “My daughter.”

Her breaths shallowed, and her heart constricted painfully against her chest. And she forced out a title she'd never been prepared to use again. “Father.” The word burned her tongue with an acerbic aftermath.

“Daughter...”

“Father...”

Em was sure the pattern would've continued on forever but for Zain's interruption. “Uhm, I think I should leave you alone to talk.” He sounded like he felt awkward, looking at her apologetically and pleadingly before walking off and out, leaving her alone to affront all the unexpected emotions she knew would leave her wrecked.

The shock, denial, anger, the hatred - they all poured in so quickly and suddenly that she barely had time to comprehend each one until they'd blended in the fortified synchrony of chaos.

“Dear...” Her father's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She watched him take hesitant, trepidant steps, obviously calculating each one of them.

When he reached out his hand to take hers in his, she pulled back instinctively, as if her brain knew that his touch would burn her. That it would open the the tap keeping her painful memories at bay, causing an overflow.

Insistent as he'd ever been, he tried once more, and right then, a flinch-worthy image flashed through her mind; that same hand advancing and striking her mother on the face. She recoiled immediately.

He looked at her confused and hurt yet with a glint of understanding. “I'm sorry. Can we talk?”

This was the first time she'd seen her father so nervous and hesitant, and as he pointed to the couches and led the way to the living room, she didn't feel her legs, but she found herself sitting on the one beside his a moment later.

“So how's life been?” He asked, ever so tentatively. “And how are things with your husband? I hope marriage is treating you well.” He tried to smile, but it came out awkward.

While she still couldn't comprehend why he was here talking to her after ten years with that tone, her tongue seemed to have forgotten one of it's vital functions.

“I heard you have a three year old daughter. How's she?”

That snapped her out of her trance. Like seriously, he had no shame in admitting that he just found out that she had a daughter whom she gave birth to three years ago?

Anger exploded within, shooting her to her feet. “What the hell do you want?” She demanded. “The last time we talked in person you were so distant and cold, so why are you acting all sweet and warm today?”

She turned around and put her palm on her forehead, trying to see if she could regain some control on herself. The 56 years old seemed taken aback for a bit, then he sighed. “You don't know how much I re...”

“What the hell do you want?!”

“I need your forgiveness.” He croaked desperately. “I need you to forgive me.”

Startled and out of reaction, she whirled back and stared at him, the request one she'd never in her wildest dreams thought would ever come from him. And yet it made her remember all the things he had done years ago and her anger shot to a whole new level.

“What exactly are you apologizing for, Sir? For destroying our family or abusing my mother or treating me to a life of rejection and abandonment?”

“For everything!” The man croaked, getting to his feet. It was the first time she'd heard or seen her father so desperate. “I'm sorry, dear. Please forgive me. I'm willing to rectify my mistakes and be part of your life again.”

She shook her head, trying to hold back her tears. “What do you think, dad? After everything you did, abusing my mother for six fucking years, destroying our family, treating me as if I never existed after her death, a simple sorry is going to free you from the burden? Oh, no Sir!” She poked her finger into his chest. “And I'm sorry but you don't get to sound like you are doing me a favour by wanting to come back into my life. That life is perfect without you, thank you very much.”

Pain flashed in his eyes, so intense, and coming from a man as strong as him, it shocked her.  “I know a sudden apology won't change anything because I hurt you so much. But I needed to start from somewhere.”

Her body was crackling with so much rage and pain that she could barely breath for it. “I don't need you in my life! I've managed it quite well without you!”

She rushed to the fridge and poured a glass of water. Gulping down the liquid, she sought to quench the fire of emotions that'd started brewing, threatening to burn and leave her with scars. It pretty much did very less to help if even. Right after drinking the water, there was an explosion and she found herself surging back again towards her father.

“Why are you back, huh? You've not given a damn about my life for fifteen whole years now. You only came to my high school graduation because you knew the principal and wanted to keep up appearance, you moved out of the house and never bothered to contact me even once after that! You didn't even bother to come when I graduated the university. I waited for you because I thought despite everything, you'd at least want to share my happiness with me. You never came! Hell, you never even bothered about the course I was taking in the university or how well I was going academically.”

“When I became a designer and launched my first line of clothes, I sent you an invitation personally, hoping against hope that you will come and show me you still cared for me after all. But you didn't bother to show up. The same happened when I launched my men's wear collection. For sometime I thought you were dead until I saw you on TV.” She chuckled bitterly, feeling the pain dig it's claws into her heart.

“And stupid me thought that for a special event like marriage, you'd at least care to show up. You never did! You've never given a damn about my life. What suddenly changed?”

She couldn't hold back her tears anymore despite her fervid attempts, and the telltale rivulets of pain streamed down her cheeks. She palmed her face, hating what this was doing to her, hating that this man who was supposedly her father, was seeing her cry. And yet she couldn't seem to stop feeling all the things she didn't want to feel.

Then there was another first that shook and conformed her; her father cried as he sulked into the settee. Cried desperately and regretfully, cried like he hadn't done at her mother's funeral if he'd ever cried at all, cried like she'd never seen him do. The sight compounded the ache in her heart.

When he seemed to have gotten a semblance of control over himself, he looked back at her, the agony still evident in his eyes. “All those events; your graduation, your debut release and even the men's wear collection, I was there. I was there at your wedding!”

She stared at him, feeling butter and incredulous that he wanted to use lies to wheedle his way back into her life. “You're lying!”

He sighed with a sense of dejection and weariness. “I was there at all of them. I stayed the longest at your wedding. Watching you walk down the aisle, pronouncing your vows to the love of your life and his to you. The beautiful reception. I was there but it hurt to think you weren't...”

“It hurt to think what? If you were truly there, why didn't I see you? You don't know how much I wanted to...”

The tears overwrought her again, and, she held him by the collar and brought him to his feet. It 2as a disrespectful act, but her respect for him had long been lost.

“Hell, why did you change all of a sudden and destroy the beautiful family we were, Dad? Why did you turn to the violent man who found pleasure in abusing his wife? Why did you deject me after her death when I needed you most. Why? Tell me this instant!”

His own river of emotions seemed to overflow again, for his body shook in hiccups against her hands. Then he finally made that revelation that halted her heart from beating indefinitely. “I'm sorry. I was such a fool. I thought you weren't my daughter!”