Bittersweet Memories (Off-Limits #4)(5)

It’s strange how disappointed I am in her. I never had high expectations, so why does it hurt so much that she proved me right? Part of me wanted to believe that she truly loved my father, even though I knew better.

It only takes me an hour to pack my bags, and before I know it, I’m pulling up in front of my best friend’s house. At least I still have some cash in my bank account, and I’ve got my car.

I lean back in my seat and stare at Lucas’s front door, unsure what my next steps should be. Can I even afford to attend college? Am I better off not going at all?

I’m filled with heartache and shame as I get out of my car, the backseat filled with my belongings. Even as I press the doorbell, I’m second-guessing coming here, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no family, and though I know many people, Lucas is my only real friend.

He opens the door before I have a chance to change my mind, and I smile at him nervously. “Hey,” I murmur. “I really need a place to stay.”





CHAPTER 4





Two Years Later





Alanna



“Dad, are we seriously doing this?” I ask, staring up at the building that houses a homeless shelter. When he told me he’d take me out on Saturday, I assumed he’d be taking me somewhere nice to make up for having to work on my sixteenth birthday.

Instead, I find myself staring up at a place that seems incredibly detached from our usual lives. Why would he bring me here?

Dad leans back against his beloved truck, a pensive look on his face. It’s almost like he isn’t even here with me at all, as though he’s lost in memories I know nothing of. Lately, he’s been like this often. When we lost Mom, Dad and I didn’t fall apart like we both thought we would. We just got closer. We learned to lean on each other. He was the one I’d turn to if anything interesting happened during my day, and he’d tell me about boring work stuff that I’d barely comprehend. We’d have dinner together, and we’d act as though Mom didn’t leave a gaping hole in both of our hearts.

In the last couple of weeks, things have been different. He doesn’t come home until I’m fast asleep, and on the odd occasion that he does, he’s buried in work, barely present when I try to talk to him. I miss him, and I was really hoping to spend some quality time together. I don’t understand why he’d take me to a homeless shelter on the first day off he’s taken in weeks.

“Dad,” I complain, my tone whiny.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his gaze lowering. “I used to live here,” he says eventually, his voice soft.

I look up sharply, shocked. “What?”

Dad nods, a melancholic smile on his face. “Come on. It’s about time I came back here. This place was instrumental in getting me back on my feet, and it’s about time I pay it forward.”

I’m in a daze as I follow Dad into the building, feeling somewhat on edge. The facility is well-maintained, and the entrance looks like an office building that they’ve tried to turn into a home, complete with pictures of frequent visitors and notable people that have tried to make a difference.

“Robert!” I look up at the sound of my father’s name. A tall, friendly looking man with the kindest smile walks up to us, his eyes roaming over my father. “Look at you! I once said I never wanted to see you here again, but you’re a sight for sore eyes. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for the shelter.”

“Ricardo,” Dad says, an equally radiant smile on his face. There’s something more in Dad’s expression, though. He usually looks proud and stands tall, but today he looks humble and grateful. Whoever this man is, my father values him endlessly. “I’m here to show my daughter around today. Donating is one thing, but I thought it was about time that I visit.”

Ricardo offers me his hand, and I shake it the way my dad taught me, my grip firm and confident. “It’s good to meet you, Alanna.”

I nod. “Likewise.” I’m curious about the man in front of me. I never knew that my dad was homeless once upon a time, and I’m curious… not just about this place, but about that time in my father’s life. He’s a well-known and prominent businessman, and though we don’t discuss finances often, I’m certain he’s worth millions. I know his company is, for sure. He started as a general worker in construction, learning the trade and working his way up before he was offered investment opportunities that led him to where he is today, becoming one of the biggest property development contractors. I never thought much about where he started, and he’s never volunteered any information before.

“Let me show you around,” Dad says. “It looks like not much has changed in the years since I left.”

I follow him quietly, my heart filled with a type of sorrow I’ve never felt before as I take in the people around us. Many of them look just like us, and not at all what I’d consider stereotypical homeless people. They look clean, their clothes tidy.

“You’d be surprised just how easy it is to lose everything,” Dad says softly. “Sometimes all it takes is losing your job. The bills pile up, and one thing leads to another. Often, people are only here for a few days or a few weeks. Those are the lucky ones.”

“How long were you here?” I ask, part of me fearing his answer.