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I felt myself grinning at him—I did remember, every moment of our story.
As night fell and stars dotted the sky outside Cass’s panoramic office window, we poured over documents and sketched out our strategy—a blueprint for our future efforts.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mila
I perched on the edge of the bed, holding Dad’s hand. His eyes, clearer than they’d been in days, fixed on mine with an intensity that anchored me to the moment.
“You know, pumpkin, love isn’t like those fancy dishes they serve at the hotel,” he began, his voice surprisingly steady. “It doesn’t come perfectly arranged on a silver platter. It’s messy, like our kitchen after you and Rachel bake cookies. Flour everywhere, eggshells on the counter—but in the end, it’s worth it for the sweetness it brings.”
I chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”
Dad’s gaze softened. “You’re like your mother in so many ways—strong, caring… but she knew when to hold on and when to let go. Love means giving pieces of yourself away and not always getting them back in the same shape. You’ve been holding back, afraid of what you might lose or what people might say.”
The corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly. “But Mila, my dear, you’ve got to dive into it. That’s where you find the best parts of life.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to him speak words I’d struggled to admit to myself.
“And this man,” Dad continued with a knowing look, “Cass… he’s stirred something in you I haven’t seen since before your mom passed. There’s a lightness about you.”
My breath caught in my throat as I processed his words.
“You think Cass is good for me?” I asked.
“I do,” Dad replied with conviction. “He challenges you, makes you question what you’re willing to fight for—and not just at the community center. He’s seen you at your fiercest and hasn’t run away. That tells me more about his character than any business deal or headline ever could.”
Dad reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “You’ve spent so much time taking care of us—worrying about bills, Brenda, and all that comes with it. It’s time for someone to take care of you too.”
“Dad…” My voice trailed off as emotions swirled within me.
“Promise me something,” he said, his gaze locking onto mine.
“Anything,” I whispered.
“Promise me you’ll let yourself be happy—whatever that looks like—and not just survive but truly live.”
“I promise.”
I clutched my father’s hand, his warmth seeping into me, lending me the strength I’d seen him muster through countless trials. His words, they echoed in the chambers of my heart, filling spaces hollowed by doubt.
“Dad, it’s like you can see straight through me,” I said, the corners of my eyes damp with tears.
He smiled, that familiar crinkle framing his eyes. “That’s what fathers do, sweetheart. We don’t just watch our children grow; we see the layers of their hearts unfold.”
My throat tightened. It wasn’t just about Cass; it was about every choice that led me here, to this moment of raw honesty between us.
“You really think he’s good for me?” I asked again, needing to hear the words that would sweep away the remnants of uncertainty.
“I do,” he said firmly. “He sees you—the real you—and that’s worth its weight in gold.”
I drew in a deep breath, letting his conviction fill me. His blessing was a balm to the nicks and scrapes on my confidence, soothing away the fear that I’d been holding on to for far too long.
“Dad,” I began, my voice steady as resolve settled in my bones. “I’m going to commit to this—to Cass.”
His grip on my hand tightened briefly, a silent acknowledgment of the path I’d chosen.
“Then go,” he urged gently. “Go and build your future, Mila. And remember that love is the strongest foundation you can have.”
