Hey Guys! So , first I want to start of by saying that this story is a collaboration! It was written by me and my great friend Florence. The story will be posted to her fanfiction account as well! Her twitter is florenceb26. She's pretty amazing. So I hope you guys LOVE it! Make sure to review, subscribe and stuff! Thanks!
Walking into my New York apartment I dropped my jacket on the counter and ran my hands through my hair. I walked to the cabinet beside my desk and got out a bottle of scotch. I reached for a glass sitting atop the cabinet, pouring a reasonable amount of the liquid in it. I sat down on my chair, turning to face the window above my writing space. I rubbed my face with my empty hand, releasing a heavy sigh. Looking out into the view of buildings ahead, I couldn't help but think of Aria. This was supposed to be our life. We were supposed to move into a little place in New York, living the perfect fairy tale we always planned. But she was 16. I was 23. We broke up after about a year and a half together. After our devastating break-up I moved to New York and I tried getting my mind off her by sticking to my original plan of getting a book published, but what do you know. I'm back teaching college now. Thinking of Aria was like a thousand deaths lined up. One death after another. A scream, a thriller, a pain that throws you for a loop. As I continued to stare into the blue sky, sadness washed over me remembering my life. Remembering our hiding. Our sneaking around. The classes, my apartment, the paper bags, Rosewood. I needed to go back and see her. Knock on her door and apologize for just leaving her. I should have fought for her. We broke up because she told me she had to leave me. I still never understood why though. She kissed me and cried in my arms when she said goodbye. Maybe someone else had something to do with our break-up…
But all of that happened thirteen years ago. Her memory haunted me like a ghost, ever so present but always distant. Her angelic features were burned into my brain. Sometimes, when the night got really lonely, I could almost imagine her smell, delicate, yet so empowering. If there was only one thing I could wish for her for the rest of my life is that she'd forget me. That she didn't carry the burden of our long lost love. On the days when the burden became too heavy, I hoped she had moved on. No one deserved to live such a life, but it had been a conscious choice I had made a long time ago. By not letting anyone else in, I blocked everybody out. Many times had my friends introduced me to intelligent, beautiful and kind women, and just as abundant were the reasons I had given them as to why it wouldn't work out. Writing had seemed to be my only escape at the time, and it still was. The dozen of notebooks sitting on my wooden desk only confirmed that process. Hardy often told me that if I had enough willpower, I could publish those stories and they would surely be best-sellers. My editor had pushed me countless times to write another book, but I never gave him another draft. My college teaching life was really occupying me. At least, that's what I told him. Eventually, he backed off, but I could tell he saw right through me and my pour excuses.
I was whisked out of my dark thoughts by a sudden flash of light. I pushed my papers aside and realized it was my phone. One missed call, one voicemail. I slid the arrow across the screen and brought it to my ear.
"Hi, um… I probably shouldn't be calling here since you have no idea who I am… but, um, I just had to do it. My name is Rosalie, Rosalie Louise Montgomery. I assume you're Ezra Fitz? (sigh) It was really stupid calling here, I shouldn't have done that. Um, basically from what I understood you could be my father, but I'm not getting my hopes up. So, yeah. Call me back if you can, if you want… "
The small, fragile voice was cut off by a beep. My hands were covering my face and my thoughts couldn't catch up to the speed my heart was racing. That voice brought back so many feelings I'd rather keep buried. It was so similar to hers that I couldn't even doubt it.
"Rosalie" my voice cracked. The heavy meaning of the words she had just spoken trough the receiver washed over me.
It was hard to wrap my head around the idea of not spending every single second with Aria, but even harder to know that we had conceived a child. Why didn't I know this? Why did she never tell me? I screamed and clutched my hands into fists, my arms shaking. Then the question rolled over me. 'Should I call back? Should I find them?' Because I knew, finding Rosalie would be the way back to Aria. How could I honestly pass up the idea of having her arms wrapped around my body, her lips on mine, her voice speaking my name?
My feelings for Aria were still powerful, but the betrayal I felt was a deal breaker. How the most important woman in my life had thought it was useless to tell me I had a daughter was an eternal mystery. It forced me to rebuff my feelings, as much as I would like to run to their doorstep and make everything right. Had Aria put the blame on me when she explained her, our, daughter why she didn't have a father? Would Rosalie even trust me? Then again, she had made the first step to speak to me.
I had the phone number, I had a reason. I had a child. That idea would take a long time to sink in. The call was made about 15 minutes ago, and I assumed Rosalie would be waiting for a response. Or maybe not. She probably thought I was an arrogant father who left when she was born. When in reality, it was Aria's fault. I picked up my phone and slide the unlock button. Going into my missed caller numbers, I was hoping it was Rosalie who would pick up. I wouldn't be able to talk to Aria after 13 years over the damn phone. I wasn't quite sure if I was upset at her for breaking up with me without a reason, or upset at myself for not fighting for her. My finger hovered over the number. I clicked it once and immediately ended the call. What was it with me not being able to call a thirteen years old girl back? She couldn't possibly kill me over the phone… As I pressed 'call' for the second time, I closed my eyes and my hands shook lightly from my anxiety. After 2 rings, a voice answered. It sounded like velvet almost, so soft, so tender, as if she was an angel. I could just picture her through the voice. Long wavy hair, dimples, perfect eyes and the most absolute complexion. Just like her mother.
"Hello?" It chimed.
My eyes began to water, and I took a deep breath.
"Is this Rosalie?" my voice broke at the end.
"Yes" she responded "Is this..?" The girls on the other end of the phone gasped and all I could hear silence. As the awkward pause continued, all I could hear was heavy breathing and a girl crying on the other end of the line. Her nervous tone had gradually grown into sobs as I heard a door close after her.
"I really don't know if I should have called back, but I thought you deserved better. I'm your father. My name is Ezra Fitz. I live in New York, but I'm from Rosewood. I assume that's where you live?" I asked, trying not to break down. It was hard, but I knew for her sake I should keep it together.
"You left me" she cried "I- I've never meet you. You're my FATHER."
I didn't know I was really crying until I spoke again.
"This wasn't my fault- Listen – I –Rosalie – I need to see you and your mother."
A hesitant silence came from the receiver.
"This isn't something that I can walk away from. I know that I have a family now, and I want to own up to it. When do you think I could come see the both of you?"
Rosalie suddenly sucked in a quick breath of air.
"You would come for us?" she asked in a hopeful yet incredulous tone.
I quickly responded "I would do anything for you. Can I come Wednesday? That leaves us two days."
"O-of course, I'll be waiting" She said with a burst of excitement ringing throughout her voice.
"Goodbye Rosalie" I said chuckling
"Wait!" she exclaimed, her voice worried.
"What is it Rosalie?"
"You'll come, right? You won't just hang up and not keep your promise? I need to be able to trust you."
"I'm a man of my words, Rose. I won't let you down." I answered my voice confident, with a hint of newfound protectiveness.
"Bye Ezra. Don't disappoint me" and the line fell shut.
