I smiled at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a long, white dress. It was a ball-gown style dress with quarter-inch sleeves and beading on the right side of the waist. The full skirt was floor-length, bunched in places. My hair was pulled into a bun, small ringlets falling here or there down my neck. I picked up my bouquet and my smile grew larger. I couldn't believe I would be married in a little less than an hour. I closed my eyes and thought of the man I was marrying. His stark white hair, blood-red eyes, how it felt when he held me in his arms…

A knock at the door startled me from my reverie.

"Coming!" I called, blushing as I ran to open the door. Outside it stood my father. "Papa, you can't convince me not to marry him. I love Soul, and nothing you say or do is going to change that."

"I know," Papa said, startling me. "I was just coming to get you. You look so…beautiful. Just like Mama…" Suddenly my real Papa was back, his voice getting hoarse, and tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, Papa," I said, allowing myself a smile. He smiled back, took my arm, and led me to the beginning of the aisle. We stood there while the bridesmaids and groomsmen passed us. I closed my eyes and a memory came to mind. I was learning to ride a bike.

"Are you ready, Maka?" Papa asked me as I gripped the handlebars. I was five years old and finally getting my training wheels off! I nodded with determination, concentrating on not looking down and looking straight ahead, just like my Papa had told me to do. "Alright then, here we go!"

With that, Papa pushed the bike gently. It started to roll down the sidewalk. The wind pushed back my bangs as the bike picked up speed, and I laughed at the feeling or freedom. I started to pump the pedals, trying to go faster. Then I realized what was hindering me.

"You can let go now, Papa!" I called back to him. He let his hands slip from the seat as I steered myself into the street. I couldn't believe it. I was actually riding a bike! A big kid bike!

"Maka!" Papa called to me. "Maka!"

"Maka!" Papa whispered again, squeezing the hand he was holding. I looked at him, startled. He smiled. "It's our turn now, Maka."

"Oh, right. Sorry," I mumbled, and started to walk down at aisle. My breath caught when I looked down the aisle at my partner, my best friend, and my fiancé. Soul smiled at me, a blush just barely tainting his cheeks. I smiled back, and suddenly I couldn't move fast enough. Papa tugged my arm.

"It's not a race, Maka. He'll still be there," Papa whispered, a smile plastered to his face. When we finally made it to the altar, he stopped.

"Who gives this woman away?" Lord Death asked, giving Papa a sympathetic smile. When Papa didn't say anything, I looked at him.

His normal, goofy frown was gone. This one nearly wrenched my heart out. Silent tears where falling from his sad blue eyes. I squeezed his hand, got up on my tip-toes, and whispered in his ear.

"You can let go now, Papa."

Papa looked down at me, gave me and watery smile, and said in a proud voice, "Her father." He then placed my hand in Soul's and stepped back. I watched him over my shoulder as I stepped into my new life, leaving my old one behind.

A shrill sound woke me from my dream. My husband, Soul, was sleeping soundly beside me, our cat, Blair, at our feet. She preferred to stay in her cat form these days. It was three years after the wedding. I picked up the phone and muttered an annoyed greeting.

"Is this Maka Evans?" A professional voice asked.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Kim, Maka. Long time no see."

"Oh, hi Kim. What on Earth do you need at-" I looked at the clock my our bedside, "-three in the morning?"

"It's your dad… He got wounded pretty bad in a fight. He's not doing too well…Maka, I think you should come down here. He's…he's barely hanging on."

I shot up in bed, startling Soul. "I'll be there as soon as possible."

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and practically ran to our closet. I pulled out a pair of jeans and a tank top, threw off my pajamas, and got dressed. Soul ran his hands through his hair.

"Who was on the phone?"

I laced up my sneakers. "Kim. It's Papa. I need to go to the hospital."

Soul got out of bed and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from out closet. He dressed silently, then turned to address me.

"I'm coming, too."

We arrived at the hospital thirty minutes later. I ran up to the front desk.

"My name is Maka Evans, I'm looking for Spirit Albarn."

"Ah, right this way." The nurse led me to a room, where I saw my father lying helpless on his hospital bed. The nurse looked at me.

"He's holding on just for you," she said, giving me a sympathetic look. I left Soul at the door and walked to the side of my father's bed. I tried to focus on my breathing. I grabbed his hand.

"Hi, Papa. It's Maka." I knew he couldn't hear me. I gave a watery sigh and climbed into his bed, laying down beside him like I did before the divorce, when he was still the only man I ever needed. I took a deep breath before softly singing,

"You can let go now, Daddy. You can let go. Your little girl is ready to do this on my own. It's gonna be a little bit scary, but I want you to know, it'll be okay now, Daddy. You can let go."

Papa smiled in his sleep, gave one last sigh, and didn't breathe again. His heart monitor gave one last valiant beep before sliding into a monotone note. I tried to control myself, but my heart broke, and heart-wrenching sobs escaped my lips. I kept repeating the same phrase over and over again, praying he would somehow be able to hear me. Soul came over to the bed, picked me up, and sat me down in his lap. He patted my hair and cooed to me, trying to calm me down. I cast my Papa one last look before I stood, took his hand, and mumbled the phrase I hadn't said to him in years one final time.

"I love you, Papa."