Sooner or later...

It had been years since I'd seen him, or her. I'd felt guilt everyday since I left but it just wasn't what I'd wanted. He would have had her adopted – that's what I tell myself whenever I feel the guilt creeping up on me again. Although thinking that helps it doesn't make the guilt go away. Now that's what I wanted. Fifteen years on what I left was precisely what I wanted. I realised that a couple of years after leaving but by then it was just too late to go back. I often wonder if I've seen her in the streets, if I've ever past her on the way to work or if I've ever spoken to her or even taught her. I mean I could have taught my own daughter and never have known. I had to see him, that way I might be able to see her. But he's probably married by now. Got his own life, forgotten me. Forgotten her? So I decided during summer vacation I'd track him down. And that's precisely what I did…

I parked my car – the same yellow VW bug that it'd all started in – at the bottom of his drive. It was the same house he'd lived in all those years before. When I discovered that it surprised me. Did that mean he was still living with his parents? Did that mean he hadn't moved on? Maybe he'd just stayed where he was, letting life go by. Or maybe he lived there with his wife and their 2.4 children. I selfishly hoped it wasn't the last one. It was wishful thinking too I guess. It was over I'd known that for years. Maybe I'd even known that before I left. Maybe. I just don't know anymore.

I walked slowly up the drive not quite knowing what to expect. I could hear music playing inside. Chances are there was a kid then. I rang the door bell. I waited a while and no one came. I'd turned around and was about to start the walk back down to my car when the door opened.
"Sorry, I didn't hear the bell." She was tall and slim but she had a body that looked as if it had been moulded to excel at a particular sport. She was muscular with a flat stomach, broad shoulders and narrow hips that didn't look to have fat on them.

It was her face that caught my attention, although her eyes were blue and mine brown they were my eyes. Her skin was pale but had a slight tan tinge to it as if she were the kind of person that given a few days sat in the sun would develop an olive complexion, much like my own was naturally. Her dark blonde hair was long and had a slight curl to it which was complimented by the cut. It was the same colour as his, the same beautiful shade that was trapped somewhere between being blonde and being brown.
"Erm, I'm looking for Ben Connor. I don't know if I've got the right house."

It began to rain as I said the last part and I remember that day when his parents had been away. We'd stayed outside all day despite the heavy showers of rain that drenched us through, causing us both to catch colds.
"Yeah this is the right house. He's upstairs I'll go get him."
She shut the door slightly and disappeared. I turned around admiring the small garden that lay in front of me. My back was to the door when he finally came back to it.
"I'm sorry. She should have let you in." I turned around as he said it. "I'm really…Oh my God. Monica." He looked at me almost open mouthed. "Come in."

I stepped inside, the warmth inside the house instantly engulfing me. He took me through to the sitting room, the music turned off now. The girl was no where around; she must have stayed upstairs when she went to get him.
"Ben, is that- was that…her?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that's our daughter."
"I didn't think you'd keep her. I thought you'd have her adopted or something."
"So did my parents. I didn't. She's here; I couldn't give her to anyone else. From the minute I saw her, from the minute she was born I loved her more than I'd ever loved anyone else. Even if I'd wanted to there was no way I could ever have gotten rid of her."
"Ben…I'm sorry. I was just – I dunno scared I guess. Scared of how out of control it'd all gotten. I was in a place I hadn't wanted to be until I was older I-"
He cut me short. "You were scared. I was barely seventeen. Having a kid was hardly what my plan had been for then." He had a point there. One side of me was saying: 'you really were selfish' and being generally rational and fair, the other well the other was being plain old mean. I realised as I tried to justify it to him that really on leaving I had been more selfish than I'd ever thought. He'd been seventeen – barely and I was twenty-four. He should have been the one that ran. He should have ran when he found out I was pregnant. That's what most tenth graders would have done. But he didn't. He stood by me. And I blew it, I ran.

He hadn't changed. He still looked the same as he had done all those years ago. Same hair, same eyes, same face, same fashion sense. It was like he was the same sixteen year old I'd met all those years ago.

"I just I had to find out what happened. I had to apologise for being so damn selfish. I just…I had to see you. See if you'd changed. She if you were the same old Ben,"
He grinned slightly, "Last time I checked I was Dad, not Ben now. Look Monica, I'll never quite forgive you for what you did, but in a way I guess I owe you a thank you. You gave me the most precious thing to me, you gave me her." He pointed to a picture on the wall. It showed him with a much younger version of the girl who'd answered the door. In the picture she was sitting on his lap. They looked happy, both were grinning. Her smile revealed several gaps where baby teeth had once been. The gaps were being showed of proudly and Ben was looking at her with awe. An awe I wish that I could have been there to see, then I realised I had seen it before. It was the same look he'd had in his eyes when he saw her for the first time, the same sparkle. "You gave me Sofi."
"Sofi?"

"Yeah, Sofia Monica Connor. She had to have a part of you with her even if she couldn't have you there" I felt my eyes welling up; I was still looking at the photograph. "Jonathon took that picture, on her sixth birthday. It still seems like yesterday, I miss my little girl. I often look at Sofi and wonder where she went, where that little girl went. Then I realize she's still there, even if she does try and act older, she can still be the six year old in that picture, she still has me wrapped around her little finger." He chuckled slightly. A tear fell onto my cheek and I searched in my purse for a tissue, he handed me one from a box on the window sill. He searched my eyes with his own, the eyes he'd passed onto his daughter – the eyes he'd passed onto our daughter. It was as if he could see the pain I was feeling, the guilt that had become so great I could no longer deal with it, the feeling of loss, of missing things, the realization of a mistake. "I wish you could have been there…"

"So do I." My voice had become shaky with emotion. His left hand caught my eye – no ring. But that doesn't mean anything, I told myself, plenty of married guys don't wear rings. But why would he ever trust me again – he has no reason to none at all.

He ushered me to sit down, the couch was soft and I sunk into it and let my emotions out – a release I had desperately needed. I felt his comforting hand on my shoulder as he sat down next to me. His touch sent shivers up my spine – just as it had done years ago. Another picture caught my eye, another picture of Sofi. She was older in this black and white shot. She was sat on the very couch I was sitting on, cross legged a laptop perched on her knees. She wore glasses, her hair scraped loosely back into a messy bun, a few curls framing her face. Her eyes still shone through the ink despite all of the color being removed. She smiled directly at the camera, but in a natural way – as if she were used to it. Then I realized, the walls were covered in framed photos – all in the same style as the sixth birthday picture, which lead me to believe they were Jonathon's – all had one subject in common: Sofi. Sofi blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, Sofi opening Christmas presents, Sofi building a snowman, Sofi with Ben, Sofi at her christening, Sofi with Ben's parents, Sofi in a bridesmaid's dress, Sofi with a Teddy bear, Sofi in a tutu, Sofi in a swimming costume with medals slung around her neck and the most recent picture, of Sofi sitting on a swing at sunset. The only one that seemed to be missing was one of Sofi and me. Ben saw me looking around at the framed photos.

"Jonathon's been taking pictures of her since she was tiny. He lived here for a while after High School, he didn't get into college but he had to move out so he came here. He helped me with her after…after you left. He didn't move out until about 4 years ago. It became a little habit of his, taking pictures of her. It became a way for him to keep his photography going and a way to keep 'little Sofi' here. For me to remember her…" he hesitated, "And in case you ever came back." I realized right there and then that he, like myself hadn't moved on, passed what had happened. His gaze was quickly removed from my eyes and he looked at the clock on the wall, wiping a tear away from his cheeks, "He still takes them from time to time, he's due over for dinner soon, he's used to living with us – he still hasn't got his own routine." He grinned in a way that once again reminded me of the teenager I'd fallen for, before it all started. All those years ago.