Chapter 3 - The Father Who Came for a Photograph
Andre called the following afternoon.
Imani was sitting on her bed with her graduation gown folded beside her.
She almost ignored the call.
Then she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, graduate!"
His voice sounded cheerful.
"How's my college girl doing?"
Imani stared at the wall.
"Fine."
"You see the pictures I posted?"
"No."
"Go look. Everybody's congratulating you."
She opened the social media notification he had tagged her in.
There they were.
Three photographs taken outside the graduation gate.
Andre stood beside her with one arm around her shoulders.
The caption read:
Proud father moment. Watching my beautiful daughter graduate. Nothing beats being there for your children.
Imani read it twice.
"You posted that you watched me graduate."
"Sure did."
"You didn't."
Andre fell silent.
"Excuse me?"
"You left before the ceremony started."
"Imani, don't be dramatic."
"You didn't even hear my name called."
"I had responsibilities."
"So did Daniel."
There was another silence.
Andre's voice became sharper.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Imani closed the photographs.
"It means he cleared his whole day for me."
"Well, good for him."
"He bought flowers. He planned dinner. He was supposed to have the ticket I gave you."
Andre sighed.
"We're not doing this again."
For months, Imani had tried to build a relationship with him.
It had started with a message on social media.
She had found his profile while searching for relatives from her mother's side.
At first, Andre seemed genuinely happy to hear from her.
He called twice in the first week.
He asked about her classes, her friends, and her plans after college.
He told her he thought about her all the time.
Then he began talking about Daniel.
"He never really wanted me around," Andre had said.
"He thought he could replace me."
Imani had listened.
Part of her wanted to believe there had been some terrible misunderstanding.
That her father hadn't simply disappeared.
That someone else had kept them apart.
The idea had been easier to live with than the truth she feared.
Now she asked him directly.
"Did Daniel really keep you away?"
Andre hesitated.
"What?"
"You told me he wouldn't let you see me."
"Things were complicated."
"Did he ever actually tell you not to contact me?"
Andre didn't answer.
Imani sat up.
"Andre?"
"Your mother and I had problems."
"That's not what I asked."
He exhaled loudly.
"Look, I wasn't in a position to raise a child back then."
Imani felt her chest tighten.
"But you said Daniel pushed you out."
"He married your mother. He adopted you. What was I supposed to do?"
"You could have called."
Andre became quiet.
"You could have sent a birthday card," she continued. "You could have written to me."
"Imani—"
"I turned eighteen four years ago. Nobody could have stopped you from talking to me then."
Andre rubbed his face; she could hear his hand brushing against the phone.
"I didn't know how to start."
It was the first answer he had given that sounded real.
Imani closed her eyes.
All those years, she had imagined a father desperately trying to reach her.
She had pictured letters being hidden.
Phone calls being blocked.
Doors being closed in his face.
Now she was hearing something different.
He hadn't been ready.
And when she finally found him, he had allowed her to believe someone else was responsible.
"Why did you tell me Daniel kept you away?"
Andre's voice lowered.
"Because I didn't want you thinking I never cared."
Imani stared at the wall.
"But you let me think he was the reason you weren't there."
"I was trying to explain."
"No. You were trying to make yourself look better."
Andre said nothing.
She thought about Daniel standing outside the graduation gate.
The hurt in his eyes.
The way he had accepted her decision without trying to humiliate her in return.
And she understood something terrible.
She had taken the pain of being abandoned by one father and handed it to the other.
Andre spoke again.
"Look, I love you. But I can't keep apologizing for the past."
Imani wiped her eyes.
"I'm not asking you to keep apologizing."
"Then what do you want?"
She looked at the graduation gown beside her.
"I wanted you to stay."
Andre didn't answer.
After a moment, he said, "I did the best I could."
Imani finally spoke the words she had avoided for months.
"No, you didn't."
Then she ended the call.
She sat quietly for a long time.
A few minutes later, she opened her messages and found Daniel's name.
Their last conversation was from graduation morning.
He had written:
Leaving soon. Got your flowers. Can't wait to see you, Peanut.
Imani covered her mouth.
She typed a message.
Dad, I need to talk to you. I know I hurt you. I don't expect you to answer right away, but I'm sorry.
She pressed send.
Then she waited.
An hour passed.
No reply came.
May you like
For the first time in her life, Imani understood what it felt like to reach for Daniel and find that he wasn't immediately there.
And she knew she had no right to demand that he make her feel better before he was ready.
