Jennie

I walk into my own bedroom, my entire body trembling. I can't get myself to stop. I can't get my heart to stop racing, to stop hurting. Breathing feels hard, and every few seconds I choke on another sob. My eyes fall closed, and yet another tear drops down my cheeks as I sink down to the floor, my knees hitting the cold marble floors.

I think back to my childhood, to the resentment my dad so clearly felt for my mother, the way he could barely look at me for the first couple of years after my mother left, even though he clearly loved me. I think back to all the times he took care of me when I was sick, all the times he held me when I cried. I still remember how distraught he was when I contacted my mother years ago, how upset he was when she told him I was stalking her, when all I really did was email her. Why did he keep me if I'm not even his? Why did he raise me? How long has he known? I don't understand why he never told me.

I inhale as best as I can, a sob tearing through my throat. I raise my hands to my face and allow myself to burst into tears. I don't want to cry, I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to be weak, but my heart feels so broken.

I feel arms wrap around me, and I look up, expecting to find Lisa, but instead it's my Dad that looks into my eyes. He looks worried and pained, as though finding me crying hurts him more than it does me, and I start to cry even harder. Dad hugs me tightly, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Jennie, what happened?" he asks, sounding incredibly worried.

"Daddy," I murmur, my tears falling endlessly. I tighten my grip on him. He feels so thin, so frail. I thought I'd be able to donate my kidney to him, but that's never going to happen now. Whatever is left of my heart shatters. "I can't save you," I whisper. I never told him I got the tests done, because I was scared he'd lose hope. But now… I can't hold it in anymore. If I'd been his real daughter, I might have had a chance to save him.

Dad tenses and pulls away, grabbing my shoulders. "What?" he asks, and I see fear flash through his eyes. The door opens behind him, and Lisa walks in. The two of them exchange a look, and dad looks down in resignation.

"Why…why didn't you tell me?" I ask, my voice breaking.

Dad cups my cheeks and wipes away my tears. He inhales deeply and shakes his head. "Because there was nothing to tell you. You're my daughter, Jennie. You're my little girl, my princess. I was there on the day you were born, I was there when you took your first steps, and I will be there to walk you down the aisle. You're mine in every way that matters."

I sniff, and Dad tucks my hair behind my ear gently. He smiles at me and shakes his head. "Stop crying, Princess," he says, and I pout, knowing he's about to tease me. "It's not a good look on you, sweetheart."

The edges of my lips tug up, and I try my best to stop my tears. Dad throws his arms back around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. "This changes nothing, Jennie. You're still my daughter. You'll always be my daughter, and I'll always love you."

I try my hardest to swallow down a sob, but it escapes my lips nonetheless. "I love you, Daddy," I cry, a fresh bout of tears running down my cheeks.

Dad sighs and rubs my back gently. "I know, honey. I love you, too."

He holds me until I've somewhat calmed down, and I pull away reluctantly. I almost don't even want to ask the questions I need an answer to. Maybe if I don't ask, I can remain in denial a bit longer.

"I've known since you were three," Dad tells me. "I found out much the same way you did, actually. You'd fallen through a glass table we used to have, and you were bleeding so badly that you ended up needing a blood transfusion. I wanted to donate my blood, but I was unable to. I was distraught, initially. But in the end, I realized it didn't matter. You were my daughter, regardless of whose blood runs through your veins."

I can't imagine what might have gone through Dad's mind the day he found out. He must've been so worried for me, and to then find out something this shocking on top of it. If I'm feeling betrayed, how must Dad have felt? Was I a reminder of my mother's betrayal every time he saw me?

"Why did you… why didn't you send me to Mom? When she left, why didn't you tell her to take me too?"

Dad frowns as though the mere idea is ridiculous, and he cups my cheek. "Baby girl, you're my kiddo, my little girl. Your mom… she was never meant to become a mother. She and I probably never even should have gotten married. I'm not sure how much you even remember of her, but your mother has always been a very unique person. She's always been very carefree and impulsive, and our marriage was yet another thing she rushed into thoughtlessly. As she does with most things in her life, she ended up getting bored with me, with having a family. I guess the rush and the excitement wore off pretty quickly. I don't even know who your biological father is. I've wondered for years, but I truly don't know. It's the one thing she'd never tell me. I thought she might at some point throw it at me during an argument, but she's remained quiet about who it is. Truthfully, I had no idea she wasn't faithful to me until the day I found out you weren't biologically mine."

Dad sighs and strokes my hair. The way he looks at me makes me feel like a child all over again. "Like I said, baby girl, it doesn't matter. You're my daughter, my princess. You always will be, Jennie. I understand if this changes things for you, though. I shouldn't have kept this from you. I guess part of me was scared of how you'd react once you found out. I was scared that you might leave, that you might want to find your real father. But that is no excuse, Jennie. I'm so sorry for keeping this from you. I had no right."

I inhale shakily, another tear dropping down my cheek, and I shake my head. "Dad," I whisper. There's so much I want to say, but all that comes out of my lips are pained sobs.

I hug him tightly and try my best to calm myself down, to regulate my breathing, so I can say what I need to. "I love you, Dad. This doesn't change a thing. You'll always be my dad."

He tightens his grip on me, as though he's scared I'll slip away if he lets me go, and I rub my cheek on his shoulder, soaking his robe with my tears. I couldn't care less about who my biological father might be. I have no interest in ever finding out. My Dad is enough. He's never once made me feel like I'm not his real daughter, and that's all I could ever want.

I can't imagine what he's been through in the last couple of years. I can't believe how lucky I am to have gotten him as my Dad.