My Future Dad Admitted He Abandoned Me Chapter 08

My Future Dad Admitted He Abandoned Me Chapter 08

Wilson rushed over and gently pulled him back.

“General Hale, you need to calm down. This is Hazel, a professor from National Defense University here for the engineering exchange program. Your daughter… she passed away years ago.”

“No! She’s not dead! She’s standing right here!” Vaughn wouldn’t listen, never taking his eyes off my face. “She’s back, my Hazel’s back.”

I ripped my wrist free from his hold and spoke flatly

“General Hale, please act professional. I have work to finish. Excuse me.”

I spun around and ran without glancing back, leaving Vaughn standing there alone like a forgotten

stone statue.

Once I got back to my dorm, I locked myself in my room, my heart pounding hard against my ribs.

Thirteen years, and he’d spent every single day searching for us.

But how had he treated us back then?

He’d called me an illegitimate secret kid, said I was cruel and full of jealousy at such a young age. He’d watched me nearly drown in the pool and chose to save Lyla without a second thought. He’d bought every lie Seraphina told him and tried to take me away from Mom so that cruel woman could raise me.

Back in the warehouse, he’d believed Seraphina’s fake crying over every word Mom begged him to

trust.

All those crushing memories crashed over me at once, swallowing me whole.

I pulled my knees to my chest on the floor and cried quietly.

For the next several days, Vaughn came looking for me every single morning.

He stopped begging me to admit I knew him, and only quietly brought me little things.

Every morning bright and early, he’d stand downstairs by the dorm with an thermal lunch pail full of strawberry oatmeal and steamed buns-the food I loved most as a little kid.

At noon, he’d bring cut-up fruit on toothpicks, all washed clean.

Every night, he’d show up with warm milk and wait until I finished drinking before leaving.

He’d stand far off and watch me work for hours on end. Rain or snow, he never skipped a single

day.

My coworkers were curious, always asking what connection I had with General Hale.

I could only vaguely say he’d mixed me up with his dead daughter.

One night, I worked overtime until midnight. When I walked out of the office building, heavy snow

was falling everywhere.

Thick snowflakes swirled through the air, covering the ground in a deep white blanket.

I was about to hurry back to the dorm through the snow, then I spotted a familiar figure standing

under a streetlamp not far away.

Vaughn wore a thick black overcoat covered in snow from head to toe, his hair and eyebrows dusted white, looking just like a snowman.

He hurried forward the second he saw me and held out an umbrella.

“It’s snowing, the ground’s slippery. Be careful.”

I didn’t take the umbrella.

Looking at his purple, frozen lips and bright red nose, a tiny twinge of pity stirred in my chest. But I

hardened my heart right away.

“General Hale, you don’t need to do all this. I’ve told you dozens of times, I’m not your daughter.”

“I know.” He dropped his head, his voice rough. “I don’t even ask you to accept me anymore. I just wanna see you, know you’re okay-that’s more than enough for me.”

He paused, then lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and full of pain and pleading.

“Hazel, can you spare one hour of your time? Just one hour. Let me tell you everything that really happened back then. I know you hate me more than anything, but you need to hear the full truth.”

I stared at his bloodshot eyes and stayed quiet for a long while before I nodded.

We walked to the base guest house and found a quiet private room.

Vaughn poured me a cup of hot tea, sat across from me, and began telling me every single thing

that had happened over those thirteen years.

The second he watched Mom and me jump off the warehouse rooftop, he completely fell apart.

He bolted downstairs and combed every corner of that empty warehouse nonstop for three whole

days and nights.

He even drained the nearby river completely, but he didn’t find a single strand of either of our hair.