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She speeds ahead to unlock the door and I sigh. We’re not exactly a family that talks about our feelings, but still.
Dad’s out on the back porch grilling when we enter, and Danielle automatically heads to the kitchen to set the table.
“Are you going to talk to your dad?” Tessa whispers.
I nod, even though I’m unsure what to say.
“Do you want me to go with you?” she asks when I make no move to head out there.
“No, I’ve got it.” I wipe my palms on my jeans, bracing myself.
“Do you have a plan?” It’s clear from her tone she knows I don’t, but her voice is kind, anyway. “Should we go over talking points?”
Talking points? Dad would laugh his ass off if he knew I was inside going over talking points to use with him.
“No, I just need to get it over with.” I give her a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“I’ll go help Danielle,” she says, looking at me worriedly. How unprepared do I look?
I take the plunge and head over to the slider, welcoming the cool air outside.
Dad glances up from flipping the burgers, then shuts the grill lid. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
I stick my hands in my pockets, my mind drawing a blank on what to say next. The last time he’d called, I’d yelled at him. And then he’d shown up to the tournament to watch me coach and praised me. I still can’t make sense of it. Shouldn’t he be mad?
“Did Tessa come with you?” he asks, throwing me off. He wants to talk about her?
“Yeah. She’s helping Danielle in the kitchen.”
He nods. “Is her apartment not ready?”
“It is. But we’re, um, dating now. So she’ll probably be around here with me more often. She doesn’t have any family, so I wanted to include her—”
“That’s fine. She seems like a nice girl.” He crosses his arms over his chest as a breeze blows past. “You’ve never brought a girlfriend home before.”
“I’ve never felt serious about anyone else. She’s the one, you know?”
His brows lift as his lips quirk to one side. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I fell hard for your mom right away. Maybe it’s something the Langford men do.”
That’s right. The Langford men always do things a certain way. “About our phone call last week…”
He holds up a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m man enough to admit I was wrong.”
I stare at him, stunned. He’s wrong?
“Looking back, I put a lot of pressure on you, didn’t I? But you were thriving. You lived and breathed boxing. I was only trying to encourage what I thought you wanted.”
“I…” I clear my throat when the words won’t come out. “I should have been more open about how I felt. It was fine when I was younger, but after a certain point I wanted to do other things and you wouldn’t let me. You told me not to bother to study for tests because my grades wouldn’t matter once I was a pro boxer. That I didn’t need to hang out with friends because I should be training instead. I couldn’t join any sports teams in school because they would interfere with tournaments.”
He looks down at his feet, nodding. “I fucked up. I realize that now. I thought you needed that push to make you great. I didn’t know I was pushing you away the whole time.”
“So you’re okay with me not going pro?”
“Of course, if that’s what you want.”
I rub the back of my neck, hardly able to believe years of living under this mental weight are gone like that.
