Chapter 54: Charlotte's POV

FIVE YEARS AGO "I wish this day didn't have to end." His smile broadened. "I missed out on so much and now I just want this moment to last forever, Charlotte." I almost started tearing up. If I could cry, I would have cried right now because that's all I've ever wanted. I just wanted a mom and dad who looked at me the way my dad looked at me the entire day today. I wanted parents who laughed with me and didn't shudder when they looked at me or touched me. That's how dad was before today. He always looked at me like I disgusted him. He always reminded me that a man like him is too good to have a child like me and because of that, because I dared to exist when I shouldn't have, I had to suffer. But today there was none of that disgust that I endured as a child. Today I could pretend that dad never hit me until I passed out. I could pretend that he and mom didn't refuse for me to let me clean myself. I could pretend they didn't lock me outside the house almost every single night. I could pretend he didn't use to drag me by the hair and slam me against the walls. I could pretend he didn't put out his cigarettes on me and punch me with all his might. And for the rest of my life that's what I'll do. I'll pretend that I always had a dad who looked at me the way this man is looking at me right now. He doesn't even need to apologise. He doesn't need to do anything. I just need him to keep looking at me with kind eyes like he is right now and smiling at me. I just need him to be my dad and love me so I can be like everyone else. And today he let me know I finally get to have that. I get to be like everyone else. "It doesn't have to end." I thought about touching his hand, but decided against it. What if I still disgust him? I should give him time to get used to me, to get used to wanting to touch me. My thoughts wanted to turn bitter because dad is part of the reason why I don't like people touching me. He always told me I was too disgusting and dirty to touch. Him and mom forbidding me from taking baths as a child made the rest of the world feel the same way about me. So eventually I also felt that way about myself. What if people find out how truly dirty I am? That's what I keep thinking to myself when people try to touch me. They'd look at me the way dad looked at me once they found out how dirty I am and realised they had touched me. They'd want to scrub off any traces of me ever breathing the same air as them. So I should spare them the humiliation. I shouldn't let them touch me so that they won't get as dirty as me. Right? I think Forest thinks I'm clean. He has a way of looking at me like he'll never regret being with me, like to him I can never be dirty. Sometimes I like to convince myself that he'll never leave no matter what, but ... I think those are just comforting lies. "How about we plan another visit next weekend?" I suggested. "Maybe we can even invite mom. Do you perhaps know where she is? I can try to track her down if you'd like." His face twitched at the mention of mom. His smile faltered for a little bit and for a second I saw the man who once tried to smash a glass vase against my head. I can't remember who or what stopped him from doing it, but I remember he once tried to do that to me. I never want that man to come back. I want dad to stay this friendly and kind and happy and handsome. So I'll do whatever I need to do so that he doesn't leave me. "We don't have to get in touch with her." I added quickly when I saw that angry twitch. "It was just a suggestion. Really. I'm just glad you're here, dad. I'm glad you're giving me a chance to show you everything I've accomplished. I'm the best at almost everything. I think I finally understand why you and mom were ..." I let the words hang in the air. "I hadn't proven myself." I shook away the memories. "But now you'll see I'm good enough to be your daughter. I have so many awards and I got so many offers from the best lawfirms in the country." He had a curious look on his face while he listened to me blurting out every little thing I've ever achieved. I couldn't stop myself. I needed him to know that I am finally worthy of his love. I wanted him to know that I was finally good enough to be his daughter. I needed him to know that I really do understand why they treated me like that. I wasn't good enough then, but I am now. I am good enough. I am good enough. I am good enough. And he needs to know that. He smiled again and I saw my own smile in his again. It made me all giddy. I knew this man as a miserable mean drunk with a beer gut and an unkept beard, but here he is today all tall with muscles and clearly with a six pack underneath his casual golf shirt. This time his hair is cut short instead of hanging to his shoulders in a mess and his dirty beard is gone; revealing a sharp jawline that can cut through glass. I always saw more of myself in mom because she had the same long light brown wavy hair as me, but now I see a bit of myself in dad as well. I have mom's eyes, but I think I have his smile. My dad has a brilliant smile and I have that same brilliant smile. And he's tall. Mom was rather short ... I think. I think I got my height from dad. I wonder what else I got from him. He chuckled while my mouth refused to stop giving him reasons to love me. Then he looked out into the rest of the campus with the most serene look on his handsome face. We were sitting on a bench after the day we had. There was quite some space between the two of us. I still wasn't sure whether I should move closer or not. I'm not sure what the distance is supposed to be between father and daughter, but I was also too afraid to sit too close to him. I didn't want him to feel overwhelmed and suddenly bolt out of my life leaving me without a dad again. "Unfortunately, I'm not available next week so I can't come visit you." He finally put an end to my mouth diarrhea. "I have some work to do, but how about this?" He scooted closer to me and my lips almost parted in shock. "Let's end the day with you showing me your living conditions. I want to make sure you don't just have a roof over your head. I want to make sure you're warm enough and have food and warm clothes and the most comfortable bed to sleep in. I failed you when you were a child, but now I should at least try to make sure my daughter has the best of everything, right?" I think I left my room in a mess this morning. Well, my desk is a mess, to be more specific. I can't let him see that. I pulled another all nighter and all the books and notes I'm using for my dissertation are still scattered all over my desk. If he sees that he'll think I'm dirty again. Then he'll leave and I'll be back to not having a dad again. "I would really like to see where you live, Charlotte." He seemed to register my apprehension. "I don't want you living in squaler when I can afford to put you in the biggest mansion in this country." I chuckled awkwardly. I've actively tried to know as little as possible about him, but it hasn't been easy because turns out my dad is the head of the Kim Group. It's the biggest engineering firm in Asia. Through no effort on my part, I already know that he is worth millions of dollars. I also know that a few years after I got placed in fostercare, he went back to Korea and married the heiress to a large electronics conglomerate. The two of them have three sons and look like the perfect family. This information never bothered me until today. Today, I'm curious what precisely it is that makes me so dirty and his sons clean. "That's not necessary." I laughed away all these unnecessary questions in my head. If I voice them he'll run away and I don't want him to leave. "I don't need a mansion. I just need a place where I can sleep and study. My room may be a bit messy right now. I was studying all night and -" "That's okay." He flashed me a sympathetic smile. "I just want to make sure you're not living in a dump." I nodded my head slowly to indicate that I understood his concerns. He wants to make sure I'm not living in a dump. Growing up, I could never understand why other kids seemed to get placed in all kinds of foster homes. I used to hear stories about kids getting placed with a nice middle class couple for a few months or years and then getting placed with the worst smokers or a man who was a groper and a woman who turned a blind eye to it all and then get placed in some type of group home situation. Point is, everyone had different experiences; except me. I always had the same story. I always got placed in the worst group homes or a home with a man who wants to treat little girls like grown women. Those ones were the worst. That's probably another reason why I don't like people touching me ... because so many men tried to touch me when they shouldn't have ... because I almost became a statistic way too many times ... because growing up people only wanted to touch me when they wanted to hurt me. When I turned nineteen, I found out that was all dad's doing. He bribed people so I'd get placed in the worst homes and with the worst people. If it weren't for Forest and his family, I wouldn't have had a safe place to run to. I would have been hurt so many times by all those people. When I was fifteen, Forest came with his truck to one of the homes I was in, took all my stuff and almost killed my foster dad when he refused for me to go with him. He refused to listen to anyone who wanted to calm him down or make excuses or claim that I'm a liar or being dramatic. He just wanted me out of there. By the time we got to his house, social services were already waiting for us; ready to take me back to my fosterparents. Forest was about to set them alight when his mother arrived home and told them who knows what to make them go away. Forest insisted that I sleep in his room that night. He slept on the couch and gave me the bed. We did that for a week until he climbed in bed with me on the last night. His mom found us cuddled up the next morning and insisted that I go sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. Social services tried taking me again and again after that, but Mama Grey took it up with them. I couldn't understand why they were so adamant that I go back to living with people who clearly wanted to hurt me. Turns out they were doing that because of dad. But here he is today wanting to make sure I am not living in a dump. "Sure!" I decided it wouldn't hurt. "It's not that far." *** "There are usually a bunch of students." I told him as I unlocked the door to my bedroom. Never in my life have I ever come to a completely empty and dead silent dorm. And the cameras are always repaired right where they are. But for some reason today they've all been removed from the hallway. I guess they must be really broken. I opened the room and started showing him around. It's a small room, but it has a huge desk. Forest got it for me. That's all I wanted - a desk that's big enough for as many books and notes as I want to use. I was too nervous to face him while I showed him around. I didn't want to see his face when he saw the mess on my desk, so I made sure to keep my back to him the entire time. After a few minutes of me rambling on without looking at him and him remaining quiet, I got scared. I got scared that he was disappointed in me and that he'd leave me. Gosh, what if he leaves. He can't leave. "Dad", I mustered up the little courage I had, "I love you. You know that, right? I think -" That's when I saw the crowbar. . . . "My poor baby." I heard mom's distinct voice. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so so sorry." . . . "The University refused to investigate!" I heard an angry voice. "Nigel, someone helped him. Someone is helping him to get everyone to turn their backs on her!" Someone suddenly slammed a door violently. . . . "Her boyfriend hasn't come to see her even once." I heard another voice in the darkness. "Dozens of people have come to see her. Her professors have come, all the societies she's a part of and that she's heading have all come to see her and brought loads of gifts for her, but that prick hasn't come even once." "He probably doesn't know she's hurt." Another voice echoed. "Her phone has been buzzing non-stop, Jona. He's calling and sending messages. It's clear he's worried." "She's been in a f*****g coma for ten straight days!" A voice roared. "You and I aren't even dating, Nigel, but if you didn't answer any of my calls or messages for just two days, I would drop everything and come find you. This man has all the money in the world and he's not even bothered that he hasn't heard from his girlfriend in ten freaking days?" . . . "That Lauren girl just posted another picture of the two of them." I heard a heavy sigh. "Seems like Lucas Greyson has found a new girlfriend already." "That's okay." I heard a calm response. "She doesn't need him, Nigel. She has us. She has me. She has you, and ... if she's okay with it, she'll also have mom." . . . "She's alive!" A muffled nervous sound came out of the darkness. "That's all that matters. Stop investigating. Stop harassing the police and the hospital staff! Stop trying to get the media to run a story on what happened to her. I promise you, she will die if you try to take this any further!" "What do you know?" I heard that familiar angry voice again. I always hear that voice. Sometimes it's calm. When it's reciting things from what I am assuming are legal text books, it's always calm and happy. When the voice sounds really close to me sometimes it sounds like it's crying. Then there are times when it sounds really annoyed. I always find it funny when that voice sounds annoyed. This voice has become a constant in the darkness. Whenever I see dad and the crowbar and the blood and hear how I'm screaming for help, that voice always shakes away the images. That voice chases dad away. I scream for Forest. I'm always screaming for Forest, but I haven't heard his voice. He's nowhere to be found in the darkness, but that voice is always there. "Please just give me a clue!" The voice pleaded. . . . "Everytime anyone posts anything about her online, it disappears almost instantly!" I heard a roar. "No one can even say anything about her online, Nigel! It's all censored or something." . . . "She's healed quite a bit and her injuries aren't as bad as we initially thought." "Will she be able to walk?" That familiar voice asked. "And what about," the voice sighed angrily, "will she be able to have kids?" "Yes." The other voice replied. "She'll be able to walk again and since we've sewn back her scalp where her hair was ripped out, her hair is starting to grow back better than expected. With the help of the right dermatologist, her skin should look as good as new in no time. Most of her scars will be healed." "I asked you whether she'll be able to have a family of her own someday?" That voice shouted. Someone in the room sighed. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait and see." The other voice replied. "We can't be sure of that right now." . . . Forest. I haven't heard Forest's voice even once in the darkness.