Not Their Kind Of Beauty

Prom day...

DONNA

All hell had broken loose and I was now an unhinged diva waving a hockey stick at two perfectly manicured girls.

"Stay the hell away from me!" I yelled, swinging the hockey stick wildly at Tiffany and Heather as they charged towards me. They dodged my attack, and instead of taking my warnings seriously, they had a reaction that stung me. The look of cruel amusement on their faces, and the ridiculing laughter at my expense hurt far more than I let on. But I didn't care. I was done. I was done being the pitiful Donna who let others toss her around like a rag doll. This was going to end with only one of us left standing.

This was not how I envisioned my junior prom to be. Here I was, in a ripped tulle ball gown with a bleeding nose, in the boys' hockey locker room, facing off against two meanies who were out for my blood. I looked like a total mess. When I left my house for junior prom, I had worn the most beautiful dress my dad picked out for me-a stunning lilac tulle ball gown that made me feel like a princess.

My sister, Dahlia, had styled my hair nicely into a messy bun with loose tendrils, which made my plain-looking face stand out. Then she did some nice step-by-step makeup on me, opting for a bold look with metallic eyeshadow and classic red lipstick. She really took her time, and I remember gasping in awe and smiling so widely when I looked in the mirror. I genuinely felt beautiful for the first time. I had even gotten a date for prom. Me-the plus-size duckling, got asked to prom by a guy who had been way out of my league just a few weeks ago.

But now I looked like the Joker's bride, with my mascara running down my cheeks, my metallic eyeshadow poorly spread across my face, my red lipstick smeared uglily at the corners of my lips, and my once elegant buns sticking out on all sides like a witch's toothbrush.

It's ironic how quickly this night went from a fairytale to a nightmare. I should have known good things don't come that easily to girls like me.

"Back off!" I yelled again, swinging the hockey stick towards Tiffany's face, barely missing her nose as she dodged my attack.

It was pouring heavily outside, but I could still hear the loud music bursting from the school hall directly opposite this building. I was supposed to be in there, slow dancing with my date, but here I was, trapped in a game of cat and mouse.

"Looks like Donna, the timid duckling finally grew a spine," Tiffany said with an amused chuckle. I could see it in her eyes that she was enjoying this show I was putting on. She wasn't scared or intimidated. Heck, she felt untouchable. That was the kind of person Tiffany was.

"Put the hockey stick down, Donna, before you hurt yourself," Heather added in a tone that was far from empathetic. This sidekick of Tiffany's was in no way different from her. They were cut out of the same cloth.

Tiffany took another daring step toward me-Her black, fitted mermaid-style gown hugging perfectly around her body, looking far too angelic for someone as evil as her.

"Do you honestly think I'm threatened by the likes of you?" She let out a demeaning laugh, still making headway towards me.

"Don't you dare come any closer!" I swung the hockey stick, and it grazed Tiffany's cheek. She screamed, stumbling back and clutching her cheek, while Heather's eyes widened in shock. I guess they stupidly believed I was bluffing. Of course, sweet little Donna wouldn't really hit them.

Heather lunged at me, and I swung the stick again, and it landed on her arm. She groaned in pain, rubbing her arm as she retreated. I could feel the fury in Tiffany's eyes as she removed her hand from her cheek, looked at her hands, and saw a little blood on it from the small cut my little stunt had left on her cheek.

I smirked, feeling the sweet taste of justice in my mouth. I was going to be the villain of this story, whether they believed it or not. But before I knew what was happening, I felt two legs strike my back from behind. My knees snapped, and my head collided with the cold, hard lockers. I fell on my stomach, and the hockey stick flew from my hands, clattering to the floor. I groaned in pain for some seconds before rolling onto my back, and I saw that two other girls I recognized had entered the locker room, surrounding me.

I was now a lone wolf surrounded by four hyenas. I was terrified by their number, and my head hurt, but I had to put up a good fight. I crawled on my knees to grab the hockey stick, but as I stretched my right hand to reach it, Heather stepped on my hand with her heels. I screamed at the top of my lungs, bawling in pain.

Pushing through the pain, I grabbed Heather's leg with my other hand, sinking my sharp nails into her skin. She shrieked, taking her leg off, then sent a slap flying to my face. The other two girls grabbed my hands, forced me up to my feet and took me to where Tiffany was standing.

"You think you're tough, don't you?" she said, squeezing my face between her fingers. Then she pushed my face away and said, "Stomp on her."

My heart rate accelerated to a 100 degrees when I heard those words. Stomp on me? Was tonight really going to be my last?

Heather took her phone out in excitement and began filming as the two girls came forward like puppets on strings, pushing me onto the floor. Soon enough, my body was being stamped on by their bare feet. They began to kick me and stamp on me all at the same time, all over my body, while Tiffany watched with folded arms, and Heather cackled and filmed. I curled up into a ball on the floor and raised my hand to protect my head and face, crying out in pain as I felt the impact of each stomp on my ribs and hands, but they wouldn't stop.

I could feel the metallic taste of my blood in my mouth as I attempted a desperate cry for help-but my words failed me. Every breath was a struggle. The act of breathing itself made my pain worse. I forced myself to move-to escape this torture-but my body wouldn't budge.

"Lift her up," Tiffany ordered, and her lackeys held my hands and roughly forced me to my feet. She picked up the hockey stick from the floor, twirling it as she walked towards me. "Whenever you think of this moment, it will serve as a reminder of why you should never mess with me."

She lifted the hockey stick up in the air. Just as she was about to strike me, she was interrupted by the sound of the locker room door bursting open. The girls turned towards it with a startled look, Tiffany lowering the hockey stick.

There stood my date-by the door, in a navy blue tuxedo, soaking wet from the rain, his once slicked back hair dripping with water. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight.

"Get away from her!" he growled, his voice competing with the thunder outside. Lightning flashed at that moment, highlighting the veins bulging on his forehead.

Tiffany's lackeys let go of my hands, and I leaned against a locker for support. I saw different emotions surge through him all at once-fury, agony, and a murderous rage. I had never seen him like this before. It was like Tiffany, Heather, and the other two girls had been struck by lightning because the room was now as quiet as a graveyard. As he walked towards us, leaving wet footprints on the floor, they backed away, like the parting of the red sea.

When he got to where I was, his murderous gaze softened as he looked at me. Then his cold hands gently reached for mine and intertwined them with his. "I'm here now," he said, his voice barely a whisper, as he caressed my cheeks.

I nodded, my tears dropping onto his thumb.

"You're not going to get away with this." he said before turning to face them.

Then his next words were drowned out as my vision grew blurry. It felt like the whole room was spinning in front of me. I clutched my chest, taking shallow gasps, as I felt my chest being compressed inside of me. My hands slipped away from his, and with a thud...I collapsed to the floor. I could faintly hear him screaming my name as he fell beside me, holding me close.

How did we get to this point?

Four weeks ago....

DONNA

Meet Donna-or should I say, me-A size 22, 5 '3", social outcast, and a plus-size duckling struggling to fit into a society where the standard of beauty was measured by a slim figure, clear skin, and symmetrical facial features.

I'm sort of what one would call a cracked and chipped mug among flawless china teacups, or a rusted, dented car in a lot full of shiny new vehicles. I attended a prestigious high school where only the top 1% of society could enroll, so you could call it a haven for demi-gods. Prime High had a social hierarchy system, where a significant percentage of students from the most notable families controlled the school. They were called the 'populars'.

My dad was well-to-do, but if we were to grade our status compared to other students using a high school grading system, we'd be getting a C.

Being overweight since childhood, I have endured being a target of school bullying for as long as I could remember. I was called names like 'fatso' and 'duckling', so much that half of my school barely remembered my actual name anymore. Growing up, I've had a phobia of clothes like gowns, crop tops, skirts, and leggings because society's judgements have distorted every ounce of my self-worth and compelled me to believe that I couldn't wear them due to my size. So I always settled for oversized t-shirts and pants instead. I was more comfortable that way.

And then there's Dahlia, my amazing maternal cousin with contrasting appearances to me. Dahlia was a size 8, 5'5", effortless beauty; a fashionable, social butterfly. She was the kind of girl everyone just liked naturally-not just because she was beautiful, but because she was kind and free-spirited.

Five years ago, my mom, Anna, and her sister, Rachael, who was Dahlia's mom, were gunned down by armed robbers in their co-owned jewelry store here in Manhattan. Rachael died on the spot, while my mom died some minutes after she was rushed to the hospital. Since Rachael was a single parent who had never been married, Dahlia had no one to take her in when Rachael passed. Rather than sending her to a foster home, my dad, Jake, had offered to take custody of Dahlia. He officially adopted her and gave her his name, and ever since then, she has been my biggest cheerleader.

I grabbed a novel from my bedside table and fell onto my bed. I was barely two chapters in when Dahlia appeared at the open door of my bedroom, wearing a red sleeveless knee-length gown and black boots.

"You ready?" she asked, lifting her gaze from her phone to see me sprawled on my bed. "Why aren't you dressed yet?" She stepped into my room. "Aren't you going to the party?"

"No, I'm not," I replied without looking away from the novel.

"Why not?" she asked in a disappointed tone.

I shot her a quick glance. "You know I don't fit in there. They're just going to get another opportunity to ridicule me."

Dahlia plopped down on my bed, beside me. "Is this about what happened at Tiffany's pool party last weekend?"

I scowled, flashing back to the nightmare of that awful day. It was that time of the year when Tiffany Diaz, the entitled rich kid of a well-known business tycoon, self-crowned queen of the populars', and my arch-nemesis, threw the biggest pool party in her family mansion. It was sort of a tradition.

I rarely attended any parties. If at all I did, I would hide away in a corner, then quietly leave after a few minutes. I was beyond skeptical about attending Tiffany's pool party, but Dahlia had insisted I come along with her.

After much consideration, I decided to attend, mostly because I was curious to witness what goes on at the most talked-about party in prime high school.

I got into the bikini Dahlia had gotten me and slowly stepped out of the bathroom. Dahlia, who was seated on my bed, immediately stood up when she saw me, her lips curling up into an amazed smile, While I stood in an awkward posture, looking uncomfortable as I impulsively hugged myself.

Dahlia's eyes lit up in delight as she smiled even wider. "You look beautiful."

But I didn't feel beautiful. The protruding stomach I had always hidden under a t-shirt and the stretch marks that ran through my thighs, which I had always covered up with pants, were now in plain sight. And my large arms felt even larger around the straps of the bikini. The last thing I wanted was to go to Tiffany's party feeling so insecure.

"I should change. I look ridiculous," I blurted, heading towards my wardrobe.

Dahlia grabbed my hand to stop me. "No, you don't. You look absolutely breathtaking."

I could see it in her eyes that she meant that, but I wasn't willing to take the risk of being 'the freak show' at Tiffany's party. Plus, I always felt Dahlia only said things like this to make me feel better about myself, when in fact, that was far from the truth. I know it is wrong of me to assume this about her, but it came with my inferiority complex.

"I'm going to be a shitshow if I show up in these. Either I change, or I'm not coming with you," I threatened.

Dahlia gently surrendered her hands to the air. "Fine. Whatever you're comfortable with."

I grabbed a swimsuit from my wardrobe, changed into it, and we headed out. A few seconds later, I rushed back in and grabbed a sarong, wrapping it firmly around my waist, ensuring that from my waist to my knees was completely covered.

After a while, our car pulled up at the entrance of Tiffany's family mansion.

"Are you ready for your first ever pool party?" Dahlia asked with an excited grin as we stepped out of the car.

I flashed her a nervous smile, followed by a sluggish nod of the head.

"Come on," she said, extending her hand to me and shooting me an encouraging smile. I took her hand, and we stepped in, hand in hand.

As we approached the pool area, I could feel my heart pounding so fast, to the point that I thought it was about to explode. My mouth practically flew open when we finally got to the pool. Virtually everyone from Prime High was here: girls in their bikinis and guys in their swim trunks. It was like a circus carnival out here.

My inferiority complex kicked in again, but I was grateful Dahlia was holding my hand, and luckily for me, no one seemed to be paying much attention to us as we walked in.

"Babe!" Dahlia's boyfriend, Trevor, called out to her from a distance, and Dahlia smiled at him as he waved to her with a charming grin.

Trevor was pretty popular in school. His dad was the president of the International Hockey Federation, so by default he was also on the school's hockey team. When he first started courting Dahlia, Dahlia went on and on about how she felt he was a player, because according to her, good guys don't look 'that good-looking'. But look who's madly in love now!

"Go on," I said to her, not wanting to separate the lovebirds. Trevor and Dahlia were like two conjoined twins.

"Will you be fine on your own?" She asked without looking at me. Her puppy eyes were fixed on Trevor, who was also gaping at her like a love-struck puppy.

I rolled my eyes dramatically as I watched the two of them, slightly amused. "You don't have to worr..."

"Okay," Dahlia cut in before I could finish my sentence, and like a butterfly, she fluttered away to Trevor.

I stifled out an amused scoff, feeling no shred of surprise that I was literally just abandoned by the person who made me come to this party.

Trevor wrapped his hands around Dahlia's waist, lifted her up in the air, and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

My face immediately contorted with a cringe. "Why are they being so dramatic when they literally saw each other yesterday?" I shook my head in amazement.

A small smile tugged at my lips as Trevor put Dahlia down like a true gentleman, his hands lingering on her waist, feeling a tad bit jealous. I was going to be 18 in a few months, and I had never had a boyfriend, let alone kissed a guy. I yearned for this kind of love in my life-a love straight out of a fairytale movie where a guy would love me genuinely, despite my size-but that seemed like a farfetched dream.

I walked over to the mini bar made of bamboo with a thatched roof, grabbed a mocktail, then walked over to a vacant beach chair and took a seat. As I sipped my mocktail, my eyes roamed to some of the popular girls in Prime High, giggling by the pool. I admired their slender figures, wishing I had their bodies so I could confidently show off like them. My eyes drifted across the pool and fell on one of my biggest nightmares, Mason King. I knew he had spotted me because his lips immediately curled up into a devious smirk.

Mason King was the self-acclaimed king of Prime High. Rich, insanely handsome, well-defined abs and an athletic build that made girls literally swoon over him. He was also captain of the hockey team and Tiffany's boyfriend since sophomore year.

My gaze lingered in Mason's direction as he tapped Tiffany and her best friend, Heather, who were standing beside him, and whispered something to them. They turned in my direction, and Tiffany's lips parted in disbelief, a wicked snicker playing on her lips, while Heather had a hand over her mouth as she chuckled with eyes full of scorn.

"The duckling's here?"

Someone said from behind me, and I turned to see who it was. The girl in question, who was one of the 'it' girls in school, gave me a bitchy look, and I suddenly felt smaller. As I snapped my head away from her hostile gaze, I was met with the sight of three apex predators circling around me. My face instantly turned pale.

"What the actual fuck," Heather said with the vilest of looks, motioning towards me like she was about to pounce on me. "You actually had the nerve to show up here?"

Tiffany grabbed Heather's hand, gently pulling her back. Then she came forward. "Hey fatso," she said to me in her usual sassy tone, while Mason sniggered beside her. "Why are you sitting here all by yourself?" her voice dropped to a gentle tone, but the glint of mischief in her eyes betrayed her true intentions. "Why don't you come with us on a swim in the pool?"

"You shouldn't be covering all that hotness," Mason added in a sarcastic tone as his sky blue eyes roamed through my body. "Why don't you take off the sarong so we can see what's underneath?" he let out a taunting laugh, and I clutched my trembling hands at my side in a desperate attempt to hide my anxiety.

"Come on, Donna," Heather urged. "You don't have to be shy. I promise you, no one's going to judge you."

"If you want to remain at my party, you're going to have to take that..." Tiffany shot me a pure look of disgust. "thing off."

"Then I'll leave," The words flew right out of my mouth, surprising me. I stood up immediately, walking away.

"Did she just walk out on me?" I heard Tiffany faintly say: Then footsteps followed.

I hastened my steps in urgency. I had to leave here before they did anything to embarrass me. I reached the poolside and scanned through the crowd for Dahlia, but she was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, I felt a firm grip on my arm.

"Where are you running off to?" Mason snickered, spinning me around.

"Let go of me, Mason; you're hurting me," I squeaked, struggling to free my arm from his tight grip.

Tiffany grabbed my sarong. "Come on, Donna, take it off," she urged all too eagerly.

Heather, being Heather, took out her phone and began to video me so she could capture my impending humiliation.

"Let go," I pleaded, my feet drifting closer to the pool as I struggled to free my arm from Mason, and at the same time, stop Tiffany from taking off my sarong.

Tiffany tugged harder at my sarong, and it came off, making me lose my balance. I let out a high-pitched scream and...

'Splash'

I landed on my back, into the pool, leaving the sarong in Tiffany's hand. I heard a bunch of screams, followed by the sound of Tiffany's laughter, erupting like fireworks, while Mason and Heather laughed their hearts out. Everyone who had initially been in the pool got out, bursting into cynical laughter as they pulled out their phones to capture each moment of my humiliation.

Swimming was one thing I sucked at.

I flapped my hands frantically, gasping for air as I choked on chlorinated water, while everyone watched like wall flowers. As I struggled to keep my head above water, I caught a glimpse of Dahlia and Trevor dodging through the clustered crowd to probably see what the commotion was all about. Their gaze landed on me, and Dahlia's eyes widened in fear. She ran over to the side of the pool, with Trevor running behind her.

"Oh my God! Donna!" She cried out in panic, throwing her hands over her mouth.

Without a second thought, Trevor jumped into the pool. Just about the same time, another guy emerged from the crowd, hurling himself into the pool and swimming ahead of Trevor with powerful strokes. I couldn't get a clear glimpse of him because I was now submerged. I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me up to the surface.

That was when I clearly saw the face of my savior.

'Christian Walker?'

I blinked in shock as my panicked eyes met the cold emerald eyes of the last person I expected to see. I couldn't believe it. Of all the people, it was him.

Trevor swam up to us, lifting my arm on his shoulders to take some of the weight. Trevor and Christian swam with me to the edge of the pool, and they placed me on the tiled floor before stepping out of the pool.

I coughed, water pouring out of the sides of my mouth.

"Donna, are you okay?" Dahlia asked in a shaky voice, kneeling beside me.

Trevor helped me up to a sitting posture. "Donna, are you okay?" his concerned eyes searched mine for an answer, but I didn't respond. I was still in shock.

My soaked clothes clung to my body, accentuating every curve I despised. I looked at the crowd of mocking faces staring down at me, and embarrassment washed over me.

Tiffany's lips were curved into a satisfied smirk with my sarong still hanging from her hand, while Mason and Heather chuckled gleefully beside her. A cluster of girls huddled together at the side of the pool snickered, covering their mouths in a vain attempt to suppress their amusement, while a few of them just gave me a pitied look.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision as I fought the urge to disappear from sight.

Why me? Why did I always have to be the court jester without a court?

Through my tears, I saw Christian grabbing a towel from a table and extending it to Dahlia. She took the towel from him and choked out a thank-you, wrapping it around me, but even the towel proved inadequate for full coverage of my abundant flesh.

What a cruel joke.

"Let's go, Donna," Dahlia said softly, pleading with her eyes for me to stand on my feet, but I wouldn't budge no matter how hard she tried. How could I when the towel left much exposed and an army of smartphones flashed at me?

Still wearing that satisfied smirk on her face, Tiffany extended my sarong to Dahlia. "You're forgetting this."

Dahlia shot her a death glare, then yanked the sarong from her.

As much as I dreaded standing up, I couldn't stay down forever. I had to pick up the remnants of my self-respect. I made a move to stand, and Trevor and Dahlia helped me up. They held me on both sides as we walked away.

I tilted my head to the side, eyes watery, as we retreated, and my eyes fell on Christian.

There, by the mini bar.

Our eyes locked, and for a fleeting moment, an unfamiliar warmth flashed in his eyes, fading as quickly as it appeared.

He chugged down the contents of what looked like a margarita in his glass, and walked off.

I looked away, cursing myself for not knowing my place in the first place.

I should have never come here.

DONNA

"My humiliation video went viral. Hashtag drowning plus-size duckling." I said with air quotes. "For days, random people stared at me on the streets. I'd rather lose myself in a good novel than face that humiliation again."

"I'm so sorry, Donna," Dahlia said, giving me a remorseful look. "I won't stop apologizing for leaving you all alone to be with Trevor when I should have been by your side, protecting you from those awful people."

"You've apologized like a million times already. Dahlia, what happened was not your fault. You can't always be there to protect me. They hate me, and they're not going to stop hating and picking on me."

"You're one of the smartest people I know, Donna," she said as she took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. You can't keep letting those losers make you feel less of yourself."

"It's so easy for you to say," I said, looking down at my tattered book cover. "You're beautiful, everyone likes you, and you have a boyfriend who's crazy about you," I chuckled sadly, "but I'm just plain old Donna, the duckling. A nobody who's never going to have a guy love her."

It was hard being me-the imperfect girl in a world full of perfection. I was a walking target with every gaze on me dripping with disdain. I couldn't go a day without the judgemental stares and the horrendous wave of ridicule.

There were days I wondered what life would have been like if I had been born different-the perfect kind of beauty.

"Don't say that, Donna," Dahlia scolded as she gently nudged my chin with the tip of her finger, turning my face towards her. "You're beautiful inside and out, and someday you're going to meet a kickass guy who'll love and cherish you just the way you are."

"She's absolutely right," A masculine voice spoke from behind my bedroom wall, and Dahlia and I screamed.

Dad poked his head from behind the wall, appearing at the doorway. "Relax, it's just me," he laughed. "You should see your faces."

"Oh my goodness, Dad!" I puffed out, my hand clutching my chest. I dropped my hands, feeling my racing pulse slowly normalize.

"You nearly gave us a heart attack!" Dahlia playfully scolded. "You weren't supposed to return from your business trip until tomorrow."

"Yeah, we wrapped up the meeting before schedule, so I thought I'd catch an early flight back."

"So you decided to eavesdrop on us, didn't you?" I teased with a raised brow.

"Well, technically, it's not eavesdropping if you were talking so loudly," he playfully defended, offering us a half-apologetic smile.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a small smile. How typical of him.

"I'd love to stay with my two favorite people in the world," Dahlia said, standing up from my bed. "But I've got to go before Trevor starts blowing up my phone," she did a little twirl. "How do I look, dad?"

He smiled, giving her a thumbs up. "Perfect"

"You have fun for the two of us, okay?" I remarked.

"You can count on that." Dahlia smiled, blowing dad and me a kiss. "Love you guys."

"Love you, pumpkin," he replied as Dahlia scurried past him. "Be home by 10 pm."

"I will," Dahlia promised, disappearing from sight.

Dad stood at the door for a moment before walking over to my bed. "Are you okay, sweet pea?" he asked, his forehead furrowing with concern as he sat beside me.

"I'm fine, dad," I lied, a half-hearted smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"You know you don't have to pretend to be strong in front of me, sweetie. If you're having too much of a hard time, you know you can always switch schools."

"Running off to another school is not going to make things better." I said, blinking back the tears that were threatening to break free. "It's going to be the same either way."

He glanced at me with a look of helplessness. He has tried to force me to change schools so many times, but I didn't agree. I didn't want to run away. And even if I did, I was sure I was going to meet the same fate at another school too.

"At times like this, I miss your mom even more," he looked away towards the framed photograph on the wall where my mom's radiant smiling face hung, "She always knew how to make everything better."he said, his bright eyes dimming with sadness.

I nodded, my heart aching at the mention of her. I wished she were here with us. Her vibrancy- just one hug and kiss from her could have wiped away the heartache I was feeling right now. "Yeah, she did," I muttered, a sad smile playing on my lips.

My mom, Anna, was his everything. The love they shared was beyond this world. I learned through them what true love was supposed to look like. My dad never stopped talking about her; he said it made him feel like she was still with him. He would stare at mom's photo and rant about his day in the office, like he always did when she was still alive. It was almost like he never fully accepted that she was gone-maybe because he didn't get the opportunity to properly mourn over her loss, because he had to be strong for Dahlia and me. It broke my heart every time I saw him talk to my mom's photos. He looked happy when he did, but I couldn't tell for sure if he was or not.

The year she and my aunt Rachael passed was the worst for me, Dahlia, and my dad. The absence of their infectious laughter which used to bounce off the walls of this house cemented a hole in our hearts. They were both a ray of light and a bundle of joy to this family, and when that light and joy was gone... we forgot what it felt to live. I would cry myself to sleep every night, cursing those cruel robbers for snatching them so untimely from us.

It was only because of Dad's unconditional love and unwavering sacrifices that the lost flames reignited in this house and in our lives again.

I reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze, hoping to comfort him as he had always comforted me. "Mom and Rachael would be so proud of you." I flashed him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine, dad. I am my mother's daughter after all."

He laughed and nodded. "Yes, you are." Then he got up from the bed. "How about we go watch a movie together in the living room?"

"I get to pick?" I asked, arching my brows playfully.

He chuckled. "Yeah, you get to pick."

He extended a hand to me to help me get up, and I took his hand, standing to my feet. We locked arms, heading down to the living room.