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“What can I help you with?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything after a few moments.
“Tell me, when did you meet my daughter?”
That’s what he wants to know?
“Uh, the first time we met was a little over three years ago. Why?”
“And how long have you been seeing her?”
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his attention drawn over my shoulder for a brief moment before his eyes meet mine.
“A couple of months.”
“So you had no influence on her changing her major?”
And now his intentions are obvious. He needs someone to blame, and I’m the clear choice. It couldn’t be that Scarlet is passionate about art or that she doesn’t want the life he so clearly wants to give her.
“No, I didn’t, but I do know how talented she is. I can feel her passion when she talks about painting. See the love in her eyes. It gives her a rush of adrenaline every time she picks up a brush. And honestly, she has an eye for it. You should be proud of her.”
He huffs at my statement, so instead of giving him the opportunity to make a snide remark or discredit Scarlet’s work, I continue.
“She may not want the life you envisioned for her, sir, but she will find success no matter what she chooses to do or where she goes. She won’t regret the decisions she’s made, but one day you will. You’ll regret pushing her away. You’ll regret cutting her out of your life. Mostly, you’ll be upset about all the years you missed with her, watching her grow and blossom into the amazing woman she’s already becoming. But I’ll be there. Encouraging her to do what makes her happy. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You stand beside them. You hold them when they have a bad day, and you celebrate when they make even the smallest achievements.”
Clearing my throat when I feel her approach, I consider stopping, but I’m on a roll. If I don’t get it all off my chest right now, while he’s staring at me in stunned silence, I may never have the opportunity again.
“Your daughter is amazing. She may not fit perfectly into the mold you created for her, but that may be the very best thing about her. She’s her own person. She’s not like everyone else. She’s special. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you let go of the notion that she’s somehow failed you; the sooner you can deliver an apology that she may believe. Until then, I suggest you take a closer look at your morals, at your life, and figure out who really failed who. From where I’m sitting, you have it all backward.”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Newton growls as I stand, extending my hand to him. He slaps it away and pushes out of his chair swiftly, causing it to tumble backward and land with a loud bang. “Who the hell do you think you are speaking to me that way?”
The crash of his chair initially draws some attention our direction. The volume of his voice ensures most of the room is now watching our interaction.
“I meant no disrespect, sir. I assumed you’d prefer a direct answer that wasn’t full of bullshit. I can see I was wrong.”
“How dare you tell me—”
Scarlet’s mother grabs his arm, causing him to stop short. One glance in her direction and I can see the panic in her eyes. He must as well because he turns to leave without another word.
And I watch him go.
My inner child wants to smile and wave. I refrain since everyone is still staring in my direction. Oh, and Scarlet has slipped her arm through mine and is resting her head on my shoulder.
“That went better than I thought it would when I walked in and saw you two talking,” she finally says as we watch her parents exit the gala.
“It could have gone worse, that’s for sure.”
“He’s not an easy man to win over, Colt.”
“Good thing that’s not what I was trying to do.” Wrapping my arm around her, I tuck Scarlet into my side and kiss the top of her head. “I don’t need his permission, his blessing. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me. Would I like it one day? Sure. But not if I have to bow to him to get it. I won’t kiss his ass, Scar. I won’t be someone I’m not. And that may mean he never approves of me. I understand if that’s a problem for you.”
I keep my lips pressed against her hair so she can’t see my internal struggle. So she won’t be able to look up and see the worry in my eyes.
Worry that she’ll wake up one day and decide I’m not worth it anymore. That she’ll choose her parents over me. That she’ll regret getting involved with me.
Mostly, I worry she’ll realize I’m not good enough for her. That she deserves better than me. And that she’ll seek it as soon as that realization hits her.
And me?
I’ll be left broken in the wake of her revelation.
