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A few days passed, and her favorite hoodie of her dad’s still hadn’t shown up. Amelia and her dad had searched high and low for it just like her dad said they would, but nothing. There was no trace of it. She asked her pops if he knew what happened to it after her mom threw it in the wash, but Pops said he hadn’t seen it yet but would let her know when he did.
Ethan, of course, did his best to offer his hoodies to her as well. And she’d wear one of his for a bit before she’d hand it back at the end of the day with a thank you for his offer, but it wasn’t her dad’s.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ethan declared on the fourth day of the missing hoodie.
“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself there.” She laughed when she heard his exasperated sigh. “What have you been thinking?”
“I could ask Dad to get you your own Dagger hoodie.”
“Ethan,” she sighed. He was missing the point. But, damn, if that wasn’t sweet of him to offer.
He too then sighed. “Isn’t it the Mitchell part you’re missing anyway?”
Her head whipped towards him, feeling as if punched in the gut. “What?”
“Well, isn’t that why you love wearing them so much? Because they have your dad’s surname on them,” he stated quietly. “You’re proud of him. Proud to show off that he’s your dad now to everyone you can because he’s stepped up for you a lot unlike your real father. Captain Mitchell chose you publicly, made you know you were wanted and loved. So you want to return the favor and stuff. It makes sense. It’s why mine aren’t good enough,” he said with a flippant shrug. “Because you’ve heard all the crap said about his family name just as much as I have over the years and know how none of it’s true. Your dad’s a hero, and he deserves to have someone celebrating him, choosing him. Why not you?”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
“So, I thought that since we couldn’t find his, I could maybe ask Dad if we could get one for you that has the same Mitchell surname across the back that you can wear loud and proud.”
“I . . .” she choked out before she turned away, trying hard not to cry in front of him. Why did he always have to be such a damn sweetheart and think of things like this for her?
“Shit! I didn’t mean to upset you,” he groaned, lowering his head guiltily. “I just . . . I’m sorry. Forget I said anything, beautiful.”
“I’ve got to go,” she managed to get out shakily, feeling the tears stinging her eyes worse now. She couldn't stay any longer or else he was going to get a front row seat of her breakdown. “Later.” She turned away and sprinted down the sidewalk towards the direction of her house. Or at least she hoped in the direction of the house, seeing as how she couldn't really see anything through the tears prickling at her eyes.
“Amelia!” She heard him call after her.
She didn’t stop running, though.
Not until she was rushing inside her house many minutes later and slamming the front door shut behind her. Panting heavily, she fell back and leaned against the door while her hands covered her face as tears streamed down her reddened cheeks.
Stupid. So stupid.
“Oh, Angel.”
She stiffened at hearing Pops murmur his nickname for her a few moments later. Of course someone would be home and find her. His strong, loving arms wrapped around her shortly afterwards, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tightly. She buried her face into him, desperate to hide herself away from the whole entire painful world.
It shouldn’t hurt her anymore. She knew that. Her and her mom’s lives were so much better with Dad and Pops now. She had a brother who cared about her—though, he could learn to text a little bit more frequently in her mind when he was on vacation so she wouldn’t worry he was kidnapped or whatever. She had all the other Daggers who were practically adopted into the family as well.
Yet, in that moment earlier with Ethan, the feelings ripped the stitches to her heart wide open, leaving her bleeding out quicker than she could stop the hurt and pain from pooling out around her.
She numbly followed Pops’s direction as he carefully guided her from the front door to the living room, she figured.
“Hey, Ic—oh, Tomcat.”
The second she heard Mav’s voice, she pulled herself out of Pops’s already retreating arms and rushed to her dad, who had, it seemed, been dozing in his armchair with Theo at his feet earlier. She knew she was being a big baby, a drama queen, overly emotional—everything her biological father hated about her, but she didn’t care. She wanted her dad, the one who chose her like Ethan pointed out . . . who made it a point to. She threw herself atop of him, crying into his shoulder and clinging desperately to his shirt, terrified he’d leave her if she let up her grip for even a second.
“Oh, kiddo. It’s okay. I’m here,” her dad murmured, rubbing her back gently, He moved her just a bit so it’d be more comfortable for both of them. “Was it that Missy girl again?”
She shook her head, swallowing down her tears as best as she could. She almost wished it was Missy because at least then it would hurt less. “W-why didn’t he . . . he want me?” she sobbed against him.
“Who?” He paused for half a second in rubbing her back before he resumed his efforts. “Did something happen earlier with Ethan?”
No. No, he was perfect as always, she thought, curling her fingers tighter in her dad’s shirt. Missy was right. Ethan deserved someone much better than her. Someone who wasn’t a mess . . . so choked up over her ridiculous daddy issues.
“Amelia, honey, you’re going to have to talk to us here. We don't understand what has you so upset?”
She choked in a breath before she managed to ask brokenly, “Why didn’t my father want me?” More tears fell from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks and splashing onto his shirt.
“Because he was a stupid dumbass, honey.”
“Maverick!” Pops lightly scolded nearby them. He must have been sitting on the small sliver of the armchair that wasn’t occupied by her.
“No. It’s the truth, Ice, and we all know it.” Her dad then pulled her closer for a brief second before he kissed her forehead tenderly. “Sweetheart, he didn’t deserve you or your mother. But his stupidity is our tremendous gain, Tomcat. Ice and I are so glad to pick up his slack. Isn’t that right, Kazansky?”
“Yes,” Pops confirmed before he, too, started to rub her back comfortingly. “We are so lucky to have you in our lives, Angel Eyes. You and your mother.”
“But I lost the hoodie,” she cried.
“Oh, sweetheart,” her dad murmured before he motioned her to sit back so they could face each other again. He brushed away her tears silently, pressing two loving kisses to her forehead. “It’s just a hoodie. It’s not the end of the world. Honest, it’s not. I have a ton of them you can wear instead. Thirty-plus years of Navy service earned me a lot of access to hoodies. And if you want, I can ask Fanboy to get me another. It’s no big deal. You feeling upset over it, though—that’s a bigger one to me because I never want you to think that our love is conditional for you, okay? Because it’s not, Amelia. It’s not, sweetheart. We will always love you no matter what.”
“Even when I’m being a big, stupid baby like this?”
He smiled faintly, pressing another loving kiss to her forehead and holding her against him for an extra-long minute.
“Hey, now. Don’t call my girl stupid,” he chided her lovingly. “Because you’re anything but, Amelia. You’re fierce and strong and loving and kind . . . and so damn brave, Tomcat. And I can’t believe I get to be right there, front row, to watch you grow up. You’re going to put all of us to shame. And we’re going to be right there cheering you on, watching you kick ass in life.”
“I don’t feel like it,” she admitted. In fact, she felt more like crawling into a hole and sobbing until she had no more tears left actually.
“You think Pops, Mr. Golden Boy of the Navy himself, didn’t have shitty days, hmm?” her dad questioned her. “Because I guarantee he did.”
“Mostly because of something your dad did first that I had to undo, mind you,” Pops quipped.
“And you think I don’t have bad days either, sweetheart? Because I do. I have had a lot of them actually where people are being downright assholes to me for the stupidest things.”
“But Pops always says that’s because you were an asshole first most times.”
“Seriously, Ice?” her dad sighed heavily, glancing at her pops.
“Am I wrong?”
“I always had a reason for my behavior, thank you.”
“So he says,” whispered Pops conspiratorially to her. “However, that reason usually entailed the ‘Don’t think, just do’ in some form.”
“Traitor.” Her dad wasn’t seriously mad, though, she knew. It was just their silly banter. He brushed back her long hair from her face with a fond, paternal look. “Whenever you have crappy days like today, when it gets to be too much, you’re always more than welcome to come find us and ask for us to make it better. Just be warned, your old dads here . . . are cuddlers by nature. But we will always love on you, my sweet girl. Even when you’re old and ancient like Bradley is." He winked at her. "Know why?”
She shook her head.
“Because you are our impossible girl, Tomcat. The daughter we never thought we’d have. Any one of us three. You are the best parts of us: Mom, me, and Pops. And you will always be, sweetheart.”
“Stop. You’re going to make me cry again.”
“Well, we can’t have that happen,” he drawled before he grinned and started to tickle her sides.
She instantly giggled and tried to squirm away, only to have Pops join in on the fun.
Tomorrow, she would apologize to Ethan for running from him. But for today, she was going to enjoy this moment with her family, with the two men who chose her as theirs and she them.