Carter's POV (not edited)

It can't be. He couldn't be here. As I walked up behind Kaillie, it was like the world slowed down as he fully appeared in front of me. Obviously, he had aged since the pictures had been taken years ago, but I didn't doubt that the man in front of me is my father. My estranged father. There are too many similarities between our appearances to even doubt it. We have the same deep blue eyes, as I'm sure Kaillie has noticed, as she turns to face me, her expression almost mirroring mine. Both our jaws are hung open, except she looks slightly more surprised than me. I guess that's my fault though, because I didn't exactly tell her about my father stuff. I didn't want to be a burden, especially considering I know exactly how Zach's actions made her feel, as I've been there myself.

"Hello?" I pose the statement as a question to him breathlessly, not quite sure why he's here. It's Christmas, shouldn't he be with his other family? You know, the one he's with all the time? Since when was I important enough to make the list of places to visit on Christmas day?

He seems to be reacting like me, as if he wasn't sure he'd make it to the door or something. "Can I come in?" he asks, as I feel my mom's hand come to rest on my shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Hi Aaron," my mom greet him warily, "Of course you can come in. Kaillie, can you close the door behind him, please?" Aaron steps through the door looking nervous, almost like he doesn't know what to do. But then again, he probably doesn't, I guess. Kaillie matches his nervousness, except hers is because she is not sure how to react to the situation, other than to do as my mom says. It's like she's in some form of shock, completing the movements with a hollow, confused expression on her face.

Mom takes his coat and leads him in the direction of the kitchen after he has taken his boots off, clearly going to have a chat before I will probably have to talk to him. As they slide into the kitchen, the only thing I hear him say is her name. Is he trying to explain why he's here? I mean, why is he here anyway? And why now? Why when I've almost lived all of my life without him in it? Why on Christmas Day? But for now, I just put my arm around Kaillie and walk upstairs with her, heading for my room. To put it lightly, I have a bit of information to inform her of, and maybe that will help to calm me down and help me understand why he is currently in my house.

"Hey," I almost whisper when we get there, and sit on top of my bed, the shock wearing off of her facial expression.

"So that was your father?" she asks, her facial expression starting to return to something closer to normal.

"Yup," I replied, "I'm not quite sure why he's here. The only reason I can think of is because I was asking my mom questions about him, and I recently discovered the story of why he's not around."

Nodding slowly, she says, "Okay, so you think he's here because you've been wondering about him?" I can see she's trying to take it all in, and it's almost like she has enough shock for the both of us.

"While, not just wondering..." I trail off, knowing what is coming up next, "My mom had me call him, but I didn't know what to say, so Abby may have called him afterward and talked to him a bit." Thinking about it now, there are things I should have said. Like, you know, hello. But it's just a little awkward to call your estranged father in the first place, isn't it?

For a moment, she just looks at me, before looking away. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks quietly, observing the floor before turning her gaze back to me. I can see a tiny bit of hurt blossom in her eyes, which starts to tear me up a bit inside.

"I'm sorry," I start, taking a hold of her hand beside me, "I didn't tell you because of everything you were going through with the whole Zach situation. I didn't want to add to the load you were carrying. So instead, I called Abby to help me figure it out. And then, I didn't think anything would come of it, so I didn't bring it up again. But you know, now he appeared," I point out with a soft, trying smile, "so it's kind of a hard topic to avoid." As I finish, her eyes turn back up to meet mine, and the metaphorical tearing sensation I was feeling stops.

"True enough," she says, giving me a soft smile in return before continuing. "Even though it hurt me a little that you didn't come to me, I get why you didn't. And I thank you for that, I do. You should know, I'm always here for you though, no matter what's going on in my life, okay?"

Taking a better grip of her hand, I start to rub my thumb over the top of her hand, telling her that I know she is there for me if I need her. "I know," I repeat to her simply. That's a fact, something I've always known. Friends share any struggles they have in life to ease the weight. That's what friendship is. But it is also knowing when one friend has too much weight to hold, sometimes they need a moment to make the load lighter before they can share someone else's as well.

"I'm glad," she tells me, her light eyes shining a little bit. "Now, I could be wrong, but I think we're supposed to go back downstairs, because someone came to see you," she tells me, her gaze wandering down to our joined hands resting on the bed. "We'll have to talk about this again, after you talk to him, alright?" Slowing, she shifts her gaze back to my eyes, and instead of shining, they're sparkling now.

After a moment, she stands, pulling me with her, "Do we have to?" I burst out, trying for some comedy in this serious moment.

"Yes, you do," she replies, reaching her head up to kiss me lightly on the cheek. Her lips leave a soft mark on my skin, one that I still feel even after we've left my room. Walking downstairs, she tells me, "I'll be in the living room with Abby and Blake if you need me. Try to have an open mind, alright?"

No matter how closed off I am to this idea, I know she's right. Plus, I can't exactly avoid someone who's waiting for me in my kitchen. "I'll try," is what I tell her as we part. I never needed him, my mom was more than enough, but that doesn't mean that I never wanted him around. Especially when I was younger. I always wondered why my father was not in my life, when I noticed so many other girls and boys with their dads, Kaillie included. But eventually I stopped. I realized I was happy without a father. Blood doesn't make a family, or even a father figure, so it wasn't like I didn't have people who cared for me beyond my mom. People have a tendency to make their own families out of friends who become like family, and I am no exception. I have a family, and I don't need him in it. Especially not if he had to get a weird phone call to be bothered to even show up.

Slowly, I walk into the kitchen like I'm preparing to walk into battle. My walls are up, with this stranger I happen to be related to waiting for me. Noah is no longer in the room, and at the sound of voices, I know he left it for the living room. The mix of familiar voices is a welcome relief to the tense atmosphere of the kitchen. "Hi?" I start, although it comes out as more of a question. As weird as it is to say, my parents both turnout of their conversation to look at me. My mom looks a little worried, and my father looks the same as he was before; nervous, and as if he doesn't know what he's doing or why he's here. Or maybe I'm a little bias, never having spent time around him, but knowing what his absence feels like.

"Hi, Carter," he greets back apprehensively.

"I guess you two need more of an introduction," my mom states quickly, "Aaron, as you know, this is your son. Carter, this is your dad, Aaron Jacobs. Now I'm going to leave you two alone, to get to know each other, alright?" Her words are moving so fast, it's starting to worry me.

Nodding in response to her question, I position myself in her way as she goes to pass. "Mom, are you okay?" I ask. Her eyes look more watery than they were before, and I know it's not because of a loving Christmas spirit warming her heart.

She gives me a soft smile and whispers, "I'll be okay, I'm just a little shook up, that's all. Talk to your father, I'll be in the other room if you need me." Again, all I do is nod. "I love you, and I'm sorry I cut you off from him as a kid."

"Mom," I start quietly, "It's okay, I don't hold it against you-"

But she stops me off before I get a chance to repeat my previous words. "Carter, I'm sorry. Now I'm going to go look after your brother, alright?" Nodding again, she walks off. Soon enough, her voice has intermingled with the others in the living room. My family. By blood and formed by love.

Meanwhile, my father and I are facing each other in silence. I don't know where to start, what to say. How do you start a conversation with someone you should know so much about, who should have been a big part of your life, but turned out to be a stranger who left before any of that could ever happen? "Carter, I'm sorry," is how he breaks the tense air surrounding us.

"For what?" I ask coolly, even though I think I know. Like I mentioned before, my walls are up, and just because my mom wants me to talk to him does not change that. I can't say I haven't imagined talking to my father before, in my childhood dreams when I wondered what would happen, if this would ever happen.

He looks at me, and despite not knowing me, I feels like he can see through me. As if the reasons for my attitude are transparent to him. They're self-explanatory, of course, but that doesn't change the fact my father does not know me, so why should I feel like he is able to read me so easily? "For leaving you and your mother," he answers after a moment of silence. "I fell in love with someone else, but I should not have left you the way I did. Your mother is amazing, raising you all by herself, even though if it wasn't what we planned."

"What you planned?" I repeat, "I would hope breaking her heart was not in your plan." My words are as cold as I feel towards him right now. Yes, my mom is amazing, and did not need his help to raise me. But he chose to be open to falling for someone else, didn't he?

"I am so sorry," he tells me, "I didn't mean to hurt you or your mother, but I can see how my actions would make it seem that I did not care." His words seem genuine, but that is what they are: just words. There is no actions behind them, or no attempts at action that I know of.

"Hold on, I haven't got to the part where you hurt me. Right now, we are talking about my mom," I turn the conversation in a different direction, slowly it down and crossing my arms. One apology can't cover everything. "You fell in love with someone else while my mom was becoming more amazing, taking care of me by herself. She told me that she saw it coming, your news. That the fact you had been cheating was not a surprise. However, that does not change how much it hurts. You hope it won't be true, even when it is and you know it. Are you going to apologize for hurting her?"

Aaron looks taken aback now. Maybe it's because of my age, or because he doesn't know my experience on the topic. From my mom, she makes it seem like they have made their peace, but that doesn't mean it extends to me. Broken hearts should never be taken lightly. "I did apologize to her. On multiple occasions. I did, and still do, want to be part of your life, Carter. I'm trying to get past my mistakes, and I hate to say that leaving you is one of them. I know I should not have done what I did to your mother. It was cruel, and I was young and stupid. I know I hurt her, but I can't change that now. I am sorry though, for the way I handled things. Your mom knows that, and now so do you," he says, this hopeful look in his blue eyes. I can feel my walls coming down a little, but I'm not that easy to break. I don't feel like I can afford to be that easy to break. Loyalty and forgiveness, they're two things that are earned, and one well-worded apology does not automatically earn them.

"You know, you're saying everything right," I state before continuing on, "This is everything my younger self wanted to hear. When I was little, I wondered where my dad was. Especially when almost all the other little kids spent time with theirs regularly. I wonder why I couldn't have that. All I wanted was for you to come back from wherever you had went, and just be my dad. Despite the fact you broke my mom's heart, I had still seen pictures of you, I knew you existed. But I also knew you weren't there anymore. So I guess, with my little hands, I helped my mom piece together the heart you had carelessly shattered. Maybe deep down, I knew you weren't coming back." As I'm saying at this, it's almost like I'm seeing red. I know what's going on around me, but bringing all this back up is just making me so frustrated and hurt all over again. It's as if I had buried this all in the deepest parts of me, and unearthing the memories is unraveling the deep feelings that went along with them. Then, there's all that red around me, and it's like I'm a younger version of myself again, innocently wondering why my dad would do this to my mom and I.

Instead of seeming taken aback, his facial expression just looks sad now. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, I didn't mean to. At the time, your mother and I thought it would be better for you if I wasn't in your life. I would have brought so many complications to your life. How would we have explained to you why I did not live with you and your mom, but with someone else, who I also love very much? Or why I wouldn't be around all the time? We thought that it would be better if I didn't come see you, so you could have a more stable life," he explains. It's a little twisted, but it does make sense. I can feel my anger still there, but it seems to have lessened at that explanation. I guess there is relief in hearing how he's sorry. Isn't that all I can ask for, anyway? For him to be sorry for what he's done? Like he pointed out, no one can change the past, only the present and the future.

Looking at him, I only see honesty. "I can understand that. But why didn't you tell me earlier? It would have hurt, but I would have understood, say, a couple years ago. I'm almost eighteen, why are you here now? Why not before?" I know he said that they were trying to make my life as uncomplicated as possible, but wouldn't I have understood at fifteen? I might not have been happy about it, just like how I feel now, but I think I would have been old enough to understand what happened and why, even if I didn't have as personal of an understanding as I have now.

"Carter, I'm trying to make up for my past mistakes. I tried, you know, to see you before. Your mom, she thought I would be better without me though. She thought it would be easier," he tells me, trying to justify himself with no real avail.

With those words, I feel the fire inside me reignite, and the anger and hurt comes pouring out. "Please, do not try to demonize my mom," I bristle, "You are the one who left, and you are the one who broke her heart. Did you consider that not seeing you would make it easier on both of us? She would not have to see the man who cheated on and left her or introduce a man who wouldn't be around to her young son. The only thing that would have made it easier is an explanation, not a string of random appearances."

"I know, and I'm sorry," he apologizes again, "It was selfish of me to try and invade your life when you were younger, as well as just leaving you for the sake of my own happiness. That was a horrible thing to do, and I know I can't make up for lost time." This was everything I had ever wanted to hear. I guess it makes me feel more at peace, knowing that he's aware of his errors in judgement. From this conversation, it's like two parts of me are at odds with one another; I'm angry at his actions and mistakes, but happy that I am finally getting the apology and explanation that I know I deserve to hear.

"But why are you here, then?" I ask, because that's what's next, isn't it? "Is this appearance all because of a phone call?" Is the phone all what made him realize his mistakes, or did it just push him far enough to feel like there was an action to be done, some move to be made?

His blue eyes just look into mine for a moment. They don' seem to be blank, but they don't seem o be empty either. "I guess I didn't realize you might feel that way. Like I just said, it was a horrible thing to do, and I guess I didn't realize how my actions would affect you, even though I knew they would, somehow. I didn't know what you knew, and what you didn't. That phone call was a wake up call, and that's why I'm here."

"So you didn't realize how not knowing you would affect me?" I basically repeat. How could he not realize that? Of course it had an impact. I wasn't so much not having a father around, because my mom is enough-it was more the not knowing why he left. My mom did the traditional things like playing ball with me, it was simply wondering why my father would leave our family, why we weren't good enough for him to stay.

"I guess I didn't, and I'm sorry for that," he tells me, nothing but sincerity in his tone. "I guess what I'm trying to say, is that this didn't go as planned. When I was younger, I always imagined being a father who was there, but I wasn't there for you. So again, I apologize."

There was a plan? Well, I guess that makes sense, with the circumstances. Especially because of my upbringing, I always imagine being there for any future children of mine. It's just so unfortunate. I'm trying to understand, and I kind of do, even if it strings a little. "So what do you want now?" I ask. If I interrupted this correctly, he wants to get to know me? But I could be wrong.

"Well, I would like to get to know you," he tells me, "I want to be a part of your future, if that's alright." He seems like a decent person, even with the fact he's out of my life for so long and has made a lot of mistakes with me. Maybe letting him in would heal the wound he left behind before.

After all, the future should be different than the past, as we are all constantly moving. "I guess that sounds okay," is what I tell him.

Just as I finish speaking, Kaillie walks into the kitchen, a red mug in her hand. "Sorry if I'm interrupting, I just came to get a drink," she says quietly, curiosity twinkling in her eyes as she locks eyes with me. The three of us stand in silence, as she makes more hot cocoa before I move to the fridge to hand her the whipped cream canister.

Adding the whipped cream to top off her hot chocolate, she whispers to me, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I whisper back, giving her a smile. Maybe even better than good, because my childhood dreams of knowing my dad are coming true. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to say something doesn't matter, it does, and I think that's what's happening now.

After she leaves the room, Aaron looks at me and asks, "So who is she?" with a small wiggle of his eyebrows. He's trying to find his place, I guess.

"What do you mean?" I reply with another question.

He looks at me quizzically. "The way you look at her tells me there might be something to know," is what he informs me off. Is this what Sara was talking about? And was it really that easy to pick up on?

"Her name is Kaillie, she's one of my best friends," I state, not giving him any more than that. He barely knows me, I don't think he needs to know about what hasn't happened yet.

The amused look on his face still remains. "Are you sure that's all?" he inquires. "I have another teenager, and I was a teenager once. Are you sure there isn't something more?"

It's almost like he knows me already, in this weird way. But, "You have another kid?" comes barreling out of my mouth first.

The blue eyes we share start to almost sparkle with fondness. "Two, actually," he corrects, "A girl and a boy."

"And how old are they?" I ask, wondering at these people who would be my half-siblings. Are they like me at all? Despite not being raised together, do we share any qualities?

"My daughter is the oldest, she's fifteen, and her name is Mackenzie. My son, Darren, is twelve. I'm sure they would be interested in meeting you," he informs me, his eyes twinkling. It's so obvious how much he loves them.

I do have a follow up question. Of course, I have many things I want to ask him, but this one is specifically important to know. "Is their mother the woman you felt in love with, when my mom was pregnant with me?" It just seems like such a relevant thing to ask. I guess, if the emotions were too real to be ignored, it isn't as bad as just leaving because you couldn't handle the commitment of having a child.

"She is," he admits, easing my occasionally murderous thoughts toward him because of the impact he left in his wake. "Her name is Christine, and she's lovely. I just couldn't ignore the feelings I felt for her, which looks to be similar to what is happening to you."

"Excuse me?" I bristle, my walls edging up quite quickly. What is that  supposed to mean?

"The girl who was here, Kaillie," he says, jutting his jaw in the direction of the living room, where Kaillie is now, "You have feelings for her, don't you?"

I stare at him for a moment, before pointing out, "You do not have the right to come in here and tell me who I do and do not love," is what I tell him harshly. He may be my father, but he doesn't actually know me. Plus, he doesn't seem to be any expert, does he? Normally, I wouldn't be on edge for something so small, but I guess because my feelings for her are laid out in the open in her Christmas gift that she got today, and because this is my father I'm talking to, it makes me have more of a reaction to even a mention of it. I'd probably be less keyed up if I had talked with Kaillie about everything between us before my father showed up. But you know, that didn't happen.

"I know, I don't have any right," he surrenders, even putting his arms up to continue the gesture. "I'm just saying it how I see it, and from what I've learned in my life."

Is he talking about before he left my mom? "What do you mean?"

"You look at her differently," he tells me, and Sara's words echoes around in my head. "That's the way I looked, and still look, at Christine. So from my experience, that looks means it could be love. Potentially a love that can't really be ignored."

"The same way you couldn't ignore Christine to be with my mom?" I blurt out, somehow enraged yet not angry at all, with my voice coming out kind of rude, but also kind of shocked. I guess because what he is saying is what Sara said, so I kind of understand. Except for cheating that is, I'll never understand that. In my opinion, that should not be seen as an option that could be explored.

He takes a moment to breath, before flashing me a quick smile and admitting to me, "I guess so, and like I said, I apologize for that. But I just couldn't see it working out. If I had chosen your mother over Christine, I might have grown to resent her because I didn't get a chance to explore what I had with Christine. Don't get me wrong, I loved your mother-just not in the same way, or not as strongly as I feel for Christine. This way, I'm happy, and even though it took a while, I let her be free in choosing what makes her happy." As he finishes, what he mentioned pieces together in my mind in a way that makes sense. If they had stayed together, would my mom be more or less happy than she is right now? If Aaron had started resenting her, than I think the answer would have been yes. Maybe it is better for them this way then? Plus, if they had stayed together, I probably wouldn't have Noah in my life. Instead, my parents probably would have been fighting or separated and I would have been an only child.

With that thought, any remaining bitter feelings towards him disappear and become more peaceful. I've made him say sorry quite a few times, so I think I've tortured him enough on that front. And I think I have enough closure with wondering why he did it. He didn't want to leave me, but he did it for happiness, and it sounds like things are better for it. Time to change the topic, let the kitchen air becomes a little lighter. "So what is your family like?" I ponder out loud.

He smile seems to come easier this time, when he says, "They're lovely. Mackenzie and Darren constantly have sibling arguments, but they love each other. Christine and I just laugh. Darren is really into graphic novels, and Mackenzie is a pretty happy and stable teenager. They both know they have an older brother, they just don't know much about you. I guess that's because I don't know that much either though," is what he asks bashfully. It is hard to know someone you don't have contact with though. "What we knew about you was only what your mom sent us in the mail every Christmas."

Wait, what? So he does know things about me? "So my mom sent you a Christmas letter every year?" I question, sure my confusion is easily seen in my expression. I didn't think he would get to know anything? Or at least, that there wouldn't be annual, yearly contact or some sort.

"Yes," he confirms, "Every year we would get a card and a letter with a picture of you placed inside. She may not have wanted me in your life when you were younger, but she still let me know what you guys were up to. I noticed when a name was added and dropped, and I tried to picture you doing the things the letter talked about. Going to the zoo with your classmates, running around the playground with your friends. When my kids became of age, I told them about you, and we started reading the letters together." So he does know some things about me? Kind of general knowledge, but that's a start.

So if he read the letter for this year, did it help convince him to come here? Did he read it with his kids again this year? Instead of those questions though, I ask, "Your family sounds really lovely, so why did you leave them on Christmas Day to come here? There are over three hundred other days of the year when you could have came here. Why did you come today?"

"Well, I knew you would be here," he starts, "I knew you are usually at home for Christmas. I told Darren and Mackenzie that they had me for all their Christmases, and that it was time I spent one with you."

"And they were okay with that?" I ask quietly, wondering what I would have said if the situations had been reversed. Probably the same as they did, but then again, looking at it from where I am now, I might have wanted to be selfish and keep my dad around. However, I know that if the role were reversed though, that I wouldn't have an idea what it's like to grow up not knowing my biological father.

Aaron always seems to wear this proud, easy smile on his face when he talks about his kids-well, Darren and Mackenzie at least. I have no idea what he expression looks like when he talks about me. Chuckling, he reveals, "We celebrated Christmas yesterday so I could come here today. When I told them I wanted to come see you, they actually urged me to leave, almost pushed me out the door." In my head, I can almost picture it. Just wow, they sound like a really close-knit family.

"They sound amazing," I reply, still a little stunned at their actions. It's not because I can't picture it, but because this is my father's family, I guess, and it's just a lot to absorb.

That little twinkle in his eyes returns. "Yeah, they are pretty amazing," he agrees warmly, "I have a feeling that they're going to be hounding me for details when I get home." He takes a step towards me, pulling out his wallet and flipping open the black leather pouch. From its contents, I can see a couple of photos stashed in there. When he pulls out two, I see another remaining underneath; a recent picture of me. Maybe he does talk about me the way he talks about them after all. Aaron hands me the two photos, which I presume are his kids. His daughter, Mackenzie, has chestnut brown hair and blue eyes, just like mine. She seems to take on more of her mother's facial features though. The second picture is of his younger son, Darren, who has dark, forest green eyes and dark brown hair, probably a shade of two darker in colour than mine, but slightly lighter than Aaron's hair colour. Unlike his sister, he seems to share more facial features with me and Aaron, with the obvious exception of his differing eye colour.

Handing the pictures back, I take a metaphorical step forward, and ask, "So, would you be interested in staying for dinner? I'd have to ask my mom, but it shouldn't be a problem." I know there's more than enough food, I would be asking my mom more for her comfort than anything else.

"That sounds great, Carter. And I'm sure Mackenzie and Darren will be interested in even more information," he jokes, which I smile to in return.

With the remains of the smile on my lips, I tell him, "I'll be right back," and he nods. Going into the living room, everyone but Noah gives me a funny-or maybe even knowing look-as I head towards my mom. "Hey Mom," I say as she looks over me from her position in the comfy grey chair.

"Hey honey, what's up?" is what responds with. Her brown eyes are staring into mine, as if trying to figure out what I'm going to say before my mouth can move. I stare right back before I quietly answer her question with another, asking if Aaron can stay for dinner. "I don't see why not," she affirms.

Her eyes seem sure, and okay. Nothing makes me think she has any second thoughts or hesitations about the idea. "Thanks mom," I add, kissing her on the cheek. Before I can turn to leave the room, but she grabs my wrist and pulls me back to her.

She gestures for me to bend over, and then she whispers, "I'm glad you're getting to know your father," into my ear.

"I'm glad too," is all I reply back with a smile, as I leave and I walk into the kitchen, turning the page on my previously non-existent relationship with my father.

"Closing time, every new beginning comes/From some other beginning's end," ~Closing Time, SemiSonic

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Wow guys, that was a long one! It was literally 5783 words :O

What did you guys think? I hope you liked it! How do you feel about Aaron now? I thought the conversation was needed in order to move forward and give Carter closure with the situation. Were you surprised at any of Aaron's words?

The next chapter should have more Kaillie/Carter time, if any of you were missing that in this chapter ;)

Thank you guys so much for reading my book, I can't believe it has 25K reads! Just wow, thank you again <3

Please VOTE, COMMENT and FAN! <3

Until next time lovelies,

~Talia <3

P.S. I'm working more my spinoff idea(s) as well, if you guys are interested ;) It would just be focused around slightly different characters :3 There is also a cast in progress which I will eventually post :P