We sat in the restaurant, my leg moving up and down. Harry's hand softly went over my thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Darling, you're okay. I'm not leaving your side." He said, his voice so soft.

I nodded, taking a deep breath, "I know. I just. What do I do? Do I hug him? I don't want to, but should I? Should I stand up when he gets here?"

He moved my hair behind my ear and placed his hand on my cheek, "Baby, trust me, when he walks in, you will know. And however you react, it's fine. The main thing is, getting his signature today. That's it."

I nodded, turning my face in his hand, "Okay."

We sat there, finishing a whole order of hummus and pita bread. My dad still hasn't showed up. I chewed on my lower lip, not fully convinced he would show, or that I even wanted him here.

"Mags, I think that's him." Harry said pointing with his chin at a man approaching our table. You didn't have to know him, to know that was my dad. The eyes. The nose. The skin color. I was his daughter, no matter how much my mom had joked about me loosing the resemblance to him. It was still there. Through and through.

"Yeah, it is." I whispered.

"Margarita." my dad said, his eyes almost scared.

I nodded and he turned to Harry, who stood up and extended his hand out to my dad, "Harry Styles, sir, your daughter's boyfriend."

My dad took it and shook it, looking from me back to Harry, "Nice to meet you."

Harry nodded and moved his hand down to gesture to the chair for my father. I just sat there looking down at the table, chewing my lower lip.

My dad cleared his throat, "So how have you been Margarita?"

"Just splendid." I said, my leg beginning its movement again.

"And your mom and Becca." He said, in such a nonchalant tone, I could have possibly flipped the table at him.

"Becca's, great. Mom, well mom's dead." I said, my tone cold and for the first time, I looked at him directly.

I watched as the color drained from his face. He blinked at me a few times, before opening his mouth to speak and quickly closing it. He swallowed hard, finally managing something out, "Do you think this is funny Margarita?"

I shook my head taking a deep breath, Harry placing his hand back on my shaking leg, "Not at all, dad. But don't worry. I didn't call you here for money. Or help. Or anything really, other than your signature."

I bit back tears, pulling out the house papers, already signed on my behalf, tagged with the places missing his signature, "I need you to sign this, to release the house to me so that it doesn't go to the banks. So that I can provide Becca with a place to live that isn't a small one bedroom apartment."

I shoved the papers and a pen at my father and he looked down at them, reading over the first page, "Maggie, I—I don't want to hear it dad. Please just sign this, so we can just wrap up the mess you left behind."

The tears were down my cheeks before I could stop them. I watched as he picked up the pen and began signing and initialing. He got to the last page and put the pen down, not signing it. I turned to Harry, my breath heavy, then back to my dad.

"I won't sign this until I see Rebecca." he said, avoiding my gaze. I felt Harry's hand tighten on my thigh.

"Dad. She doesn't want to see you."

He looked at me briefly before looking away, "She doesn't? Or you don't want me to see her? I'm still her dad Margarita."

"In what sense? In that it may be your DNA coursing through her veins? Because that's where it ends, and I hope you understand that. You are not coming near my sister."

"Then I am not signing this last page." He said pushing the papers back towards me.

I stared at him, my breathing heavy, I swallowed hard and shook my head, "Haven't you messed up our life enough already? You know Becca can't go to the college she wants because we had to use her college fund to help mom cover bills? Did you know that I was in charge of signing DNRs for my mother multiple times? I had to sell my car, to cover basic meals for a couple months. Just sign the damn papers Javier!"

My voice was loud enough for people in the restaurant to turn and look over at us. My dad looked down shaking his head and standing up, "Maggie, mija, you may not want to forgive me, but Becca might. I deserve to at least have her tell me she doesn't want to see me."

"Why? Why put her through that? With all due respect sir, why force your youngest daughter to have to tell her father, that she doesn't want to see him? If she had wanted too, she would be here today. Nobody stopped her, she was fully aware of this meeting." Harry said before I could say anything else. His voice angry, yet very calm, fully attempting to diffuse the situation.

"With all due respect young man, I have a hard time believing my Becca wouldn't want to see me. Maggie is just like her mother, very convincing without saying much. I know that she said very little, and Becca knew better than to go against her big sister."

"Stop talking like you know anything about us. Who are you? You're nobody. You're a worthless man who walked out on his wife when she got cancer."

I watched as he looked around, my voice causing more people to turn, my mind briefly thinking about Harry and the media, causing me to take a deep breath, and lower my voice, "We didn't need you then, we don't need you now. We won't ever need you. I'll get a lawyer, I'm not here to grovel to anyone."

I quickly stood up, grabbing the papers as I did, and heading out, Harry following behind me. Before we reached the door, the hostess stopped me, her voice unsure, "Ma'am, Harry, um, look I'll comp your meal, I think we all heard that, and aren't going to force you to stay, but let us take you out the kitchen? There are already about five paps outside and, I don't think you want these photos as tomorrows headline."

I took a deep breath, realizing the amount of tears coming from me. I reached in my purse and handed her whatever bill I pulled out. She shook her head, attempting to refuse and I stuck it in her front apron pocket.

"Please. Just get us out of here." I said lowly.

She nodded and lead us through the kitchen to the back door, which thankfully was right across from Harry's car. We shuffled in quickly and Harry drove off quicker than I had ever seen him drive.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." was all he could manage, he too had tears in his eyes. He held my hand in his the whole way home, his thumb drawing circles of comfort on the top of my hand, as we sat in silence.