I could not remember the last time that I ever told anyone the story about my dad. I always gave simple explanations. In truth, I missed my dad like crazy. I was still so hurt by that last conversation, but I constantly find myself looking at pictures of us and his family. I loved them completely, and it’s honestly annoying to pretend otherwise. My mom always told me that if I wanted a relationship with him, she would never stand in my way or feel any type of way, but a part of me feels guilty for wanting it after being so hurt.
I always felt judged, but not with Ace. He never once judged me for the want of my dad in my life. He completely understood. It made me feel comfortable to share more. To share the secrets that I coveted the most. Eventually.
My inner debate was interrupted wit
