The balcony was his favorite place to be.
Each night, Dylan found himself seated out there. A cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. A drink or two and some sort of snack within arms reach. His feet were always perched up against the ledge. He’d wind down from the day's events. Lose himself in the sounds of the still bustling city – admire the admittedly breathtaking view. This night was no different.
He was mindlessly scrolling his phone, cigarette dangling precariously between his lips when he heard the sound of the sliding glass door.
“Are you good?” He inquired when the culprit came into view. Dylan peaked around the form of his daughter, searching for any sign that her mom would soon follow. Last he checked, they’d both been slumbering soundly in the bed he’d made up for them.
Rightfully, he was concerned.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Natalie answered, clambering into the nearest seat. Dylan paused, watching as she settled beside him. She was tiny – like her mother, but the rest was all him. Unruly hair, high cheekbones. She was an essential copy of his features from the shape of her nose down to the color of her eyes. Even their personalities were similar which was evident by her unwillingness to elaborate further.
Dylan didn’t pry. Instead, he passed along the blanket he’d brought out for himself. A silent urging for her to bundle up against the cold. Dylan considered for a moment that maybe he should prod until she opened up, but he let it be. Let them settle comfortably.
“He wants me to call him dad,” the eleven year old blurted out suddenly, shattering the silence. Dylan had to force back the wince in response to her surprise declaration. Instead, he chuckled. “Oh, yeah? Paul does, huh?” He asked, acknowledging the existence of her moms fiance.
Dylan plucked the cigarette from his lips, stabbing the butt into the depths of the ashtray to stall. He needed a moment to think. Gather his thoughts. He could see her looking at him out of the corner of his eyes and knew she was waiting for some indication of his feelings on the matter.
“That’s not such a bad thing,” He began, clearing his throat. “He’s going to be a permanent part of your life. Take care of you and your mom. I won’t mind,” Dylan admitted, though it was a far cry from the truth. Their dynamic had always been different. It wasn’t exactly father and daughter, and he’d always been ‘Dylan’ and never ‘Dad’, but she was his even if he only saw her scattered weekends throughout the year.
He could see the wheels turning in her head.
“I don’t think I will,” Natalie declared suddenly. “You’re my dad.” There was a finality in her tone that Dylan couldn’t ignore and though he could’ve said something, he chose to instead slide the plate of cookies he had over to share. It was a silent acknowledgment of her words and Natalie happily accepted as if she knew, even with being so young, that it was the best he could offer.
Nothing about their dynamic would change, but there was a newfound understanding between the two and Dylan was satisfied with that.
