Page 118 of From the Wreckage

I square my shoulders anyway, forcing myself forward. The twilight settles heavily around me, but one thought rises above the rest, spilling from my lips in a rough whisper.

“No matter what, I’ll prove to her I love her. That I want her more than anything in this world. And I’ll do any damn thing to scale her walls so I can help her repair all her broken pieces.”

CHAPTER 88

Brielle

Dad greetsme with a smile when I walk into the kitchen. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Dad.” I slide into the chair, watching him as he sets food on the table. "You didn't flip out about Everett stopping by." It’s not a question, but a statement.

He faces me, letting me see the emotions warring across his face.

“I'd like to say I don't make mistakes, but I do.” He sets the mashed potatoes on the table.

“What does that mean?”

He sits down, scooping some macaroni and cheese onto his plate. “That I realized I was wrong.” He looks up at me. “Everett fucked up. And yes, I'm aware he has a past. But I also know... That man loves you.”

I freeze, gripping my water glass. I don't say anything for a long moment.

“He hurt me, Dad.”

“I know. But so did I. I was the one who pushed the two of you apart, remember?”

“But he... he didn't fight. For me. For us.” My voice is a whisper, the pain thrashing through me again.

Dad's shoulders tense. “That may have had a lot to do with me.”

I blink at him, waiting.

“You may not like this, but when I bumped into him in town, I could see how broken he was over you. I had a conversation with him...” He takes a drink of water, as if this conversation is making him nervous. And it probably is. Dad isn't one to talk about emotions much.

“And?”

“That's when I realized how much that man cares for you.”

I sit there, comprehending his words.

“So I put him to the test. See what he'd do. He didn't hesitate. He was here when I got home from work.”

I rub my forehead, my emotions going haywire. “I told him what happened. I didn't mean to. It just... slipped out.”

Silence stretches between us.

“Maybe you trust him and feel safe with him.”

I stare at my plate, my vision blurring. I hate when my dad's right.

“Maybe,” I whisper.

“I have one thing to say. Then I'm not going to intervene anymore.” He shifts in his chair, pulling at the neck of his T-shirt. “You know it's hard for me to admit to myself that my little girl has grown up. And when I saw you and him...” He clears his throat.

“Kissing, Dad. Kissing.” For the first time in a week, a slight smile breaks across my face.

He huffs. “Fine. Kissing.” He shakes his head, stabbing his steak like it's personally at fault for making him uncomfortable. “I reacted like you were a child, not an adult. A soon to be twenty-two-year-old who's always had a good head on her shoulders.”

I blink at him, surprised he's finally realizing I've grown up.