Connor Temple grew up without a father most of his life. His father had left him when he was eight years old, claiming that he could do better than a son that did nothing put play with plastic dinosaurs and a wife that did nothing but moan and complain about her life. It hurt quite a bit, but his nan always told him that his father wasn't worth being sad over, so he tried not to be. He tried to patch up the wound and the empty spaces that never seemed to be filled, telling himself that a man who didn't like him wasn't worth his time.

But of course, he longed to have a father. Someone who was there for him, someone who was a hero, a strong man that was proud of him and loved his mum unconditionally. At night, he remembered praying for nothing else and he often wrote letters to Santa, saying that all he wanted for Christmas was for daddy to come back. Surely the man had just said that out of spite, yeah? Surely no man could ever dislike his child, his own flesh and blood. Connor would willingly forgive him if they could all be a happy family again, rather than a poor broken family that hardly had anything to eat for dinner.

He had imagined it time and time again. That perfect family. A puppy, a son, a mum, a dad, and maybe a little sister on the way. Everyone would eat dinner together and laugh at silly stories and jokes, they would hug and kiss goodnight, and dad would tuck him in and tell him stories of superheroes and time-travelers and space.

Yet still, he never had the courage to go looking for the man. Connor was always a bit scared that his father would still think of him as the stupid child that played with plastic dinosaurs and refused to talk to others. He would get as far as typing his father's name in a search engine before closing the tab and doing a bit more research on aliens that were invading Earth.

When he was fifteen he decided to write a letter, thinking that would be easier for him. He wouldn't have to speak, after all. He'd just have to write. So he sat down at his desk, a pen in his hand and wrote whatever came to mind.

Dear Dad,

I remember what you screamed when you left the house the last time I saw you, but I still have faith you'll come back. Sounds silly, I know…but sometimes people say stupid things that they regret for the rest of their lives. Maybe you're just scared we won't accept you again. But I will, promise. I think I've come a long way from the little boy that plays with plastic dinosaurs…I think maybe you could be proud of me now. They say I have a genius IQ and I'm thinking of being a well-known scientist when I'm an adult. I know it's no professional rugby player, but…it's something, yeah?

Mum's been working a lot since you've been gone. Sometimes I feel like I've lost both of my parents, not just you. If you come back, though, everything can be okay again. Mum will only have to work one job and you'd only have to work one job and I'd get to see both of you, yeah?

I really just wanted to write you to tell you how much I miss you. Nan tells me I shouldn't, that you're nobody to look up to, that you've always been someone who walks away…but you fell in love with mum for a reason and you decided to have me for a reason…so, maybe you can still be that man. I believe in you.

Love,
Connor

He never did get to send that letter. His mum found it the day he was going to and told him it just wasn't worth it. He tried to fight against her and send it anyway, but it ended up buried in the rubbish bin.

"One day," He kept saying. "I'll write another letter and I'll send it to him and she'll see how worth it it really was." But it never happened. Every time he picked up a pen to start writing, he was only reminded of her disappointed face.

Was he that terrible of a man?

He wondered that for years on end. But when he was seventeen years old, his life changed forever. That image of a perfect family broke apart and shattered like glass. It was never going to happen. Connor knew because when he got home from school one day, he found his mum screaming at an officer, crying her eyes out, telling him that he was a liar. When he asked what was going on, the officer turned to him and told him words he'd never imagined he would have to hear.

"Son," The man said, taking a deep breath. "Your father died in a terrible fire down in Reading, trying to save a small family of three. I was sent to tell any kin and or previous spouse."
Connor's face twisted up in pain and he shook his head. "Died?" He choked out, sniffling.
"I'm sorry, kid," The officer looked at the ground. "He left you his jacket. There's a letter in there addressed for his son." He went to the police car, the boy trailing behind him, trying to hold in his tears as his bottom lip quivered. Connor took the jacket that was handed him, a fire company jacket, and he ran.

He ran until he couldn't run anymore. Until his knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed on the ground and tears spilled from his eyes and a wail erupted from his throat. He dug through the jacket and found the pocket that the letter was located in, his name neatly written on the front.

Dear Connor,

I haven't seen you since you were eight and by now you must be sixteen or seventeen. It's been a very long time, I know. Sometimes I wonder why I ever left. I think I just wasn't ready to be a father. I didn't really know how…especially to a boy that on some days wouldn't look at me or say a word. You weren't interested in sports, I didn't know how to relate. I was no good with dinosaurs and science and I was a rather terrible pretender. I was young and maybe I was even a bit scared. All the tests we had to take you too stressed me out…it was only natural that I got into fights with your mum.

I'm writing this letter because….I'm sorry. I wish I could've been there for you, sometimes I wonder what you've accomplished and if you're happy…sometimes I wonder if we could've been a good family.

Connor, you deserved a better father than me, you deserved a father that would've fought through the problems like he fought through fires. You were a brilliant child and I wish I could've seen you shine instead of scolding and scorning you for not liking sports.

Maybe we'll meet again and we can make up for lost time.

- Dad

From that day on, he wore that jacket every chance he could. When he couldn't, it lied in his bed and he all but cuddled it at night, praying for the events to change, praying that his father just wasn't dead and that they could fix the brokenness between them because it seemed, that's all his family ever wanted and they just never knew how to express it. So his mum ignored her feelings and his dad lied to himself and Connor was just to scared to admit it.

But if they had all reacted differently; they would be that happy family they always envisioned in their minds.