Healing old wounds

Arias POV

The print shop was still. The soft clack of the press echoed in the background, but it didn’t distract Aria from the way her chest tightened just being there. The place had once smelled like her childhood—ink, old wood, dust, and lavender oil her mother used to dab on the corners of the desk. Now it just smelled like wear and time.

She walked in slow, arms crossed over her chest. Her dad looked up from the counter, wearing his tired navy apron and a shaky smile. The years had weighed down his shoulders, but his eyes—greyer now—lit up when he saw her.

“Aria. Look at you.”

“Just stopping by,” she said stiffly. “Brought you the supplier receipts Jamie asked me to drop off.”

He took them, eyes lingering on her like he wanted to say something else. “You busy? Got a minute?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. She moved to perch on the edge of the old stool, posture rigid.

Harold wiped his hands on a shop towel, nervous. “You ever sit in silence so long, it starts sounding like the things you never said?”

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile.

“I used to think your mother leaving was the worst thing that ever happened to me,” he continued quietly. “But watching you walk out at eighteen without looking back? That was the one that stuck.”

Aria’s fingers curled tighter around the strap of her bag.

“But I get it now. I wasn’t someone worth staying for.”

Her throat burned. “You gave up on us.”

“I gave up on myself first.” His voice cracked. “That’s the damn truth.”

She looked down, at the oil-stained concrete floor, willing herself not to cry.

“I spent years telling myself I was the victim. That life just happened to me. But baby girl… I let it happen. I let grief eat me, I let pride chain me to the same four walls. I let you carry a weight that was never yours.”

Her voice was hollow when she finally spoke. “We needed you.”

“I know.” He swallowed hard. “And I failed you.”

A long pause. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, voice rough with emotion. “Kade… he’s been here.”

Her eyes snapped to his.

Harold nodded. “Since almost day one. Offered me side work when the shop barely ran. Paid me double. Found me a part-time gig with Mr. Linwood’s store down the street. Drove me to the hospital when I had that scare last fall. Showed up at my house with fried chicken and potatoes when I hadn’t eaten in days. Never asked for anything back.”

Aria’s breath caught.

“He’s the one who convinced me to go to AA,” Harold added softly. “Said my daughter deserved to see a man fight for himself.”

Her heart felt like it was breaking in pieces too big to name. All the anger, the buried grief, the fear that she’d never get her father back—now wrapped up in a confession and the quiet, patient love of someone she never asked for but always needed.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” Harold whispered. “But I want you to know I’m trying. Every day. And that boy? Kade? He saw me when I couldn’t even look in a mirror.”

Tears spilled down Aria’s cheeks. For all she’d lost. For all she never thought she’d hear.

She didn’t hug him—not yet. But she nodded. Just once. And in that single motion, something long frozen began to thaw.

The words settled between them like dust in sunlight. Aria stared at the faded logo on the wall behind him, lips trembling, throat thick with everything she’d never said.

Harold didn’t push. He just stood there—weathered, waiting. The press clacked behind them, steady and rhythmic, the only sound in the room.

Minutes passed.

Aria finally exhaled. It was quiet, shaky. Her voice barely above a whisper.

“I forgive you,” she said.

Harold’s breath caught, his shoulders jerking as though the words physically struck him.

“I don’t think things will go back to normal. Not quick. Maybe not ever,” she continued, eyes fixed on the frayed edge of her sweater sleeve. “But… I miss my dad. Even now. At twenty-two. I still want you back.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the one before, but softer somehow. Full of grief, but also something like hope.

Harold took a small step forward, then stopped himself. “I’ll earn it. I swear, Aria. However long it takes.”

She nodded, and this time, her arms unfolded. She didn’t run to him, but she didn’t pull away when he gently reached for her hand.

For the first time in years, her fingers curled into his. And she let herself hold on.

By the time Aria stepped out of the print shop, the late afternoon sun had dipped behind the storefronts, casting long shadows down Main Street. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—twice.

1 Missed Call — Kade Calloway

2 Messages — Mason Dorsey

She hesitated before unlocking it.

Mason: “Thinking about you. You were beautiful last night.”

Mason: “Can’t wait to see you in that dress, babe. I’ll make time this week. Promise.”

She swallowed hard, the buzz from her talk with her dad still humming in her chest, and now this—Kade calling. Why?

She dialed Jamison as she walked toward her car.

He answered on the second ring, chipper. “Hey, sis. How’d it go?”

“I saw Dad,” she said, pulling open the door. “We talked. Really talked.”

Jamie was quiet for a moment. “Yeah?”

“He told me everything,” she said. “And… he mentioned Kade. Said he’s been helping him. Driving him places. Fixing stuff at the shop. I had to hear that from Dad, Jamie?”

A sigh on the other end. “It wasn’t my place. Kade didn’t want credit. He just wanted to do right. Said you had enough on your plate.”

Aria leaned back against her seat, staring at her windshield. “Still. I wish I’d known.”

“You know now.”

She closed her eyes. “Yeah. I do.”

As she hung up, her gaze drifted to the missed call again. And her thumb hovered over Kade’s name.

Aria’s phone buzzed again, and she stared at it for a moment, her thumb hovering over Kade’s name. She should call him back—after all, he had done so much for her dad, even when she hadn’t been around. But the nagging voice in her head told her to wait just a bit longer.

Her thumb hovered over Kade’s name, wavering like the breath caught in her throat.

She was right there.

One tap away from hearing his voice.

Then—

Incoming Call: Mason

She froze.

The moment broke.

Then her phone rang.

Mason. Her heart did a strange little flip, and before she knew it, her thumb was swiping to answer.

“Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, even though she felt a rush of conflicting emotions.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mason’s voice was smooth, his usual charm dripping from every word. “I was thinking about you. Want to grab dinner tonight? I realized last night I’ve been taking us for granted, and I want to make up for it. I miss the simple things with you, Aria. I miss… us.”

Her stomach fluttered, but she bit back the wave of guilt rising in her chest. His words felt almost too sweet, like they were meant to ease the discomfort she’d been carrying around since their last fight.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice a little shaky, unsure if she was ready to let him back in so easily. “You’ve been kind of… distant lately, Mason.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for that,” he replied, his tone softening. “But I want to show you I can do better. I’ve been a fool, Aria. I just—” He paused, the silence between them seeming to stretch. “I just want us back to the way we used to be. Before all this mess.”

Aria’s chest tightened, his words tugging at her heart. She missed that version of them, too—the way things used to be before everything got complicated, before Mason became distant and then hurtful.

“Okay,” she found herself saying, against her better judgment. “Dinner sounds nice.”

Mason’s voice brightened. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. I promise, it’s going to be like it used to be, you’ll see.”

She hung up the phone feeling a mix of relief and confusion. Why was it so hard to say no to him? Was she really willing to believe that things could just go back to normal?

She set the phone down and sighed, glancing at the missed call from Kade again. He had been there for her, even when Mason hadn’t. But part of her still wanted to believe that Mason could be the man she needed him to be.