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“Ethan.”
He ignored me and looked at my father.
My father stared at him for a long time before his eyes shifted to me.
I wanted to die.
He rose to his feet behind his desk, his shoulders enormous and his cloak long. “My daughter doesn’t need my permission to marry a man she loves. I raised my daughter as I raised my son—to make her own decisions without outside opinion or approval. So, she’s the one you should be asking—not me.”
Ethan turned to me, his eyes victorious.
I could feel the storm clouds gather in my eyes. “I told you your station had nothing to do with this.”
“Ask my daughter to marry you.”
My eyes remained on Ethan, but goose bumps formed on my skin when I heard my father’s tone.
“Ask her.”
Ethan swallowed, probably because he’d picked up on the hostility too. “Harlow—”
“No.”
The silence was so heavy it was difficult to breathe.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I whispered.
My father came around his desk. “My daughter has given her answer. Our business has concluded.” He approached Ethan and looked at him head on, his eyes sharp as arrows. “Harass my daughter again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” My father didn’t raise his voice, but the walls shook anyway. It was a silent blow, a knife slipped between the ribs. “Leave.”
Ethan departed the study immediately.
I should have felt better now that he was gone, but standing with my father was somehow infinitely worse. Tense. Awkward. Unbearable. My father didn’t look at me at all, like this was all a horrible nightmare he wanted to forget. “I’m sorry—”
“You owe no apology.” His eyes finally shifted back to mine.
“He’s not a bad guy—”
“He’s a man who doesn’t know how to handle a broken heart,” he said. “He’s willing to do anything and everything to get back what he lost, but he needs to face the truth—that you were never his to lose.”
I’d never heard my father speak that way.
“Your mother and I agreed that she would handle this part of your life. It’s not my place, and I don’t want it to be my place. But having a daughter who’s not only beautiful but smart and fierce will have consequences—and I’m not ignorant to that.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Tell me if he bothers you again. I’ll handle it.”
“I don’t need you to handle it, Father.”
His eyes shifted away, and he released a quiet sigh. “Your uncle is on his way for a visit.”
“He is?” I asked in excitement, grateful for the change in subject. “What about Grandmother? And Lila?”
“Only Uncle Ian.”
“Well, that’s still exciting.”
“He should be here in the morning.” My father looked at his desk. “I have matters that require my attention. Is there anything else?” It was still awkward. Really awkward.
