Author's Note: As promised, I'm back with what I originally labeled a sequel, but as my awesome beta, IrishViking20 called out, this is more of a continuation of the Epilogue. I haven't broken it down into chapters, but it won't be more than four. The scene you're about to read is the entire reason I continued this story—I felt like it would've been incomplete without it. Enjoy!

"Welcome back, Ms. Vause." Tom, the front desk clerk smiles, then turns to my wife. "Ms. Chapman."

"It's nice to be back," she replies.

He punches something into the computer. "Would you like the same room as last time?"

"We were upgraded last time," Piper says. "We don't expect that every time we stay at The Beekman."

"It's unlikely you'll get an upgrade every time," he begins. "But it just so happens that one of our suites is open this weekend."

I slide my credit card across the lacquered counter. "We'll take it."

We've been to New York once a month for the past year except in January when we were both slammed with work, but it wasn't until our fourth trip when we settled on staying at this particular hotel until we buy a place of our own.

"Here are two complimentary breakfast tickets." He hands the slips of thick paper to Piper. "You know the drill."

Piper nods. "Thank you."

"Can I get a bellman to bring your bags to your room?"

I hold up my compact suitcase. "You should know by now—we travel light."

"Very well." He places an envelope with the keycards on the counter. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Tom."

We arrive at the room on the 16th floor and Piper places the keycard against the lock.

"We're going to get spoiled if we stay in this suite again," she says.

I kick the door shut. "Which is another reason why we need to buy a place soon."

We've toured nine condos and brownstones all over Manhattan, but none of them had exactly what we're looking for. It's not going to be our permanent home—at least not for now—but we want a two-bedroom place that would be spacious and comfortable if we decide to relocate.

"Alex, we can't buy something just because we think it's time." She hoists her suitcase onto the stand. "We'll know when we see the right one."

While I've focused on house hunting over the last several months, that's not what has recently kept me up at night.

I pulled the white, fitted sheet over the top corner of the mattress. "When's the last time you talked to your parents?"

Piper stopped midair and stared at me. "Where's that question coming from?"

"I saw an envelope on the counter with your mom's return address." I continued making the bed. "I didn't open it, but I know she wrote to you."

"I haven't spoken to my parents since my move." She blinked at me. "But we write letters."

I stood straighter. "You haven't talked to your parents in nearly four years?"

She shook her head, looking ashamed.

"Why not?"

She returned her attention to securing the fitted sheet under the lower corner. "They didn't approve of my move to Columbus."

I flicked the flat sheet over the bed with more force than necessary. "You mean they didn't approve of you moving to be with me."

"Does that surprise you?"

I thought about her question for a moment, and the truth is that it didn't surprise me at all. "No."

Over the years, Piper filled me in on her parents' disdain for me, particularly her father's objections to our coupling, but she never went into great detail about why they dislike me so much. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, and when she didn't invite them to our wedding, it became crystal clear that they didn't, or perhaps wouldn't, support our union.

Nevertheless, I hated being the reason Piper didn't speak with her parents. "If you got really sick or hurt or something, would you want to be estranged from them?"

She shook her head. "No."

I pulled the sheet to the top of the mattress. "Then maybe it's time to end the standoff."

"It's not really a standoff," she replied. "My mom and I write to each other once a month. That's been the case since I got the job at Starbucks."

I didn't know if I wanted the answer to this question, but I voiced it anyway. "Do you tell her about me?"

"Of course I've mentioned you, but there wasn't much to tell while you were at Marysville," she begins. "I told her when you were getting released and about your job at Niche."

I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it into its case. "What about my electrocution?"

"Yes." Piper does the same with the other pillow. "And the settlement."

"Was she at least a little concerned about my health?" I didn't know why I wanted Piper's mom's sympathy, but it bothered me knowing I didn't have it.

"She was." She tugs the comforter over the flat sheet and smooths it with one hand. "She asked how you were doing—how I was doing knowing you were hurt."

"I guess that's something," I mumbled under my breath.

"I wasn't hiding the letters from you, Alex. If you want to read them, I'll show you."

"I'm not interested in invading your privacy." I placed the decorative pillows on the bed. "If you wanted to show me the letters, you would've a long time ago."

"We're in an awkward position." She lifted her shoulders. "With my parents, I mean."

"We don't have to be." I moved around the bed and took her hands in mine. "You've shown your commitment to me by moving here and ultimately marrying me. If they want you in their lives, they're going to have to move past that." I pause. "I'm not suggesting they have to accept us as a couple, but I don't want you to carry the weight of choosing me over them and potentially never speaking to the people who literally brought you into this world ever again."

"What are you saying?"

"I have no reason to hate Bill and Carol." I shrugged. "They didn't do anything to harm me, and they supported you when you got out of prison. If your dad wouldn't have hired you, you might not have had the money to move to Ohio. I'm thankful to him for helping you out."

"He blames you for sending me to prison," she blurted out.

"I did send you to prison." I shook my head in small bursts. "I hurt you massively—hell, I changed the trajectory of your life. He has every reason to hate me."

She lowered her gaze. "He doesn't hate you."

"If he did, I wouldn't fault him." I shrugged, then lifted her chin with a finger. "I don't want to be the reason you don't speak to your parents, Piper, and it's been that way for too fucking long."

She stood in silence, so I continued. "Maybe it's time we meet."

Her eyes widened.

"Besides, I could use some advice about how to invest my settlement money," I began. "The mutual fund I have most of it in isn't the best option long term. Maybe your dad could help me with some financial decisions."

"You really want to meet them?"

"Do I want to? No, but if it means repairing your relationship with them, I'll do it," I responded. "And maybe I'd earn a few brownie points by showing him I want to be responsible with my money."

Finally, a smile tugged at her lips. "It would take a lot of brownie points to get in his good graces."

"I'm sure that's true," I chuckled. "Let me do this for you, babe." I pulled her into a tight embrace. "I don't want you to have to hide this part of your life from them."

She looked up at me. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

The truth was, I was nowhere near sure I wanted to meet the Chapmans, but I couldn't live with the fact that my wife was estranged from them solely because of me.

I glance at my phone. "What time are they expecting us?"

"Seven." She unzips her bag. "It's going to be casual, so wear what you have on."

I look at my outfit, which consists of old jeans and a button up shirt. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She kisses me on her way to the bathroom.

We take an Uber across state lines, and not for the first time, I wonder if this is a good idea.

Piper rubs my arm. "Are you nervous?"

I try to smile. "Do I seem nervous?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"Great," I sigh. "Maybe this is premature—maybe we should've arranged a phone call before meeting in person."

"This wasn't my idea," she comments. "You've had two weeks to decline the offer, Alex. It's not like we can bow out now."

I close my eyes and rub my temples. "I don't even know how to act."

"Just be yourself."

I want to roll my eyes at her advice, but instead, I give her a tight-lipped smile. "Right."

The Uber puts the car in park.

"Ready?"

"Do I have a choice?" I hop out the car and follow her up a brick pathway that leads to the Colonial-style home.

"It's going to be fine." Piper squeezes my hand before letting go and knocking on the door.

I take a deep breath before the door swings open, revealing the woman I've only seen in pictures.

"Oh, Piper, it's so good to see you." Carol embraces her daughter. "It's been entirely too long."

"It has." She pulls back. "Where's dad?"

Bill walks up wiping his hands with a dish towel. "Right here." He hugs Piper, then blinks at me.

Piper pulls back and gestures my way. "This is Alex."

I give them a thin smile and hold up one hand. "Hi."

Bill nods but remains silent and Carol squeezes my arm. "It's nice to finally meet you."

From what Piper has shared, her mom turned the corner about accepting me right after the riot at Litchfield. Something about life being too short to not love who you love.

"Before this goes any further, we need to clear the air," Piper says through a shaky breath.

"Let's move to the living room," her mom suggests.

I follow them to the other room not feeling any calmer than I was on the way over here. My palms are sweaty and my breath hitches in my throat. I remind myself why I'm here—why I'm subjecting myself to unspoken judgement and ridicule. Piper chose me and stayed; it's time I prove to her and to her parents that it was the right decision.

"It's no secret why I went to prison," Piper takes a seat on the sofa, tugging my hand to join her. "I carried a suitcase filled with drug money, and Alex told the authorities about it."

Carol looks away and Bill sighs.

"But there's more to it than that," she continues. "When we traveled the world together, Alex was consumed with her work—"

"In a drug cartel," Bill adds.

"We've already established that, dad," she says calmly. "She wasn't spending enough time with me and I got upset." Piper glances at me, and I'm sitting as straight as possible with my hands in my lap. "One day when we were in Paris, she got the phone call no one wants to receive—her mom had died of an aneurysm."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Carol says.

I nudge my glasses. "Thank you."

"Instead of comforting her like any decent person would do, I left." Piper dips her chin. "I left Alex minutes after she'd just found out her mom passed away and I never looked back."

"Piper," her mom says in a disapproving voice.

Piper twists her neck and looks at me. "I regret that more than anything I've ever done, and if I could go back in time to change one moment, that would be it."

"You're saying the reason Alex turned you in is because she was upset you left her at a shitty time?"

She nods. "Yes."

He steeples his hands and nods.

"And if there was a moment I could change in my life, it was when I named her to the authorities," I say. "She hurt me to the core, and I wanted vengeance." I tighten my jaw. "I'll never forgive myself for that."

"I've forgiven you." Piper puts a hand on my knee. "If you wouldn't have named me, we never would've gotten back together."

I'm sure that's what her father hoped would've happened—that Piper would've married Larry and been the perfect, WASPy daughter he always dreamed of.

"Alex and I have been through hell multiple times," she says in a thick, emotional voice. "We've fucked each other over more times than I can count, and—"

"Honey," her mom chastises her again. "Language, please."

"Sorry," she sniffs. "I tried to stop loving her; I really did, but I couldn't—I can't."

"You were about to get married!" Bill chimes in. "If Alex wouldn't have sent you to jail, you would probably be a mother by now."

"I was never cut out to be a mom," she replies. "And things wouldn't have worked out with Larry."

"How do you know that?" he asks.

"Because my heart belonged to Alex." She takes my hand. "I would've realized that somewhere along the way and I would've found her." Piper pauses. "Dad, I need her in my life; she's like…she's like oxygen. I love her so, so much and nothing will change that."

"I love your daughter more than you'll ever know," I add. "I realize that might sound impossible after I named her, but that was a long time ago; we've grown since then. We've made a commitment to each other for a lifetime, and I intend to spend the rest of my life respecting Piper and making her happy."

Piper holds up her left hand, revealing her wedding band. "We're married."

"I'm sorry we weren't there," her mom says.

Bill gives his wife a look as if there was no way in hell they would've attended our wedding.

"I didn't invite you," their daughter responds. "I knew you wouldn't support us, so I didn't tell you until after it was official."

"You're right." Bill leans forward. "I wouldn't have given you my blessing; I still don't."

I lower my eyes, feeling terrible that Piper has to hear her father utter those words.

"What you did to my daughter changed the good life she was building," he continues. "And maybe things wouldn't have worked out between her and Larry, but she was well on her way to owning a successful business. You ruined that."

Piper looks mortified. "Dad!"

"He's right—I did," I reply with more gusto than I feel. "But deep inside, Piper has always wanted to change the world. She's transforming the way the penal system treats inmates. Do you honestly think she would've been happy selling soap for the rest of her life?"

Carol shakes her head. "No."

"No," I repeat. "She would've been living the life she thought she should live—the one you wanted for her. As much as you might not want to admit it and as fucked up as it sounds, prison changed your daughter for the better."

Bill sits back and averts his eyes.

"It has." Piper squeezes my hand. "It's true we're here for financial advice, but that's only secondary. It was Alex's idea to meet so we could fix our relationship." She glances my way. "I wouldn't be here today without her encouragement; I don't know if I ever would've reached out on my own, because you didn't approve of my choices."

"We want you in our lives, Piper," her dad says. "It's not easy for me to say thank you to Alex for making this happen, but if she's the one who brought you home, I suppose I can swallow my pride long enough to express my gratitude."

"I don't deserve your gratitude," I reply, though inwardly I'm thankful for receiving it. "But it's true that I wanted Piper to reconnect with you." I link my fingers through hers. "I lost my mom far too young, and I would give anything for a little more time with her. I refuse to be the reason you're not in Piper's life, and whatever I can do to help repair your relationship, I'm willing to try." I pause for a second. "Except leaving her—that's off the table."

"I've never seen my daughter commit to something—to someone—so wholly," Bill begins. "She surprised all of us by picking up and moving to Ohio just to be close to you. I'd be lying if I didn't think it was a colossal mistake, but over time, I began to respect her for choosing something and abiding by it."

I'm shocked by his words, and judging from Piper's expression, she's equally stunned.

"If you know Piper the way I do, you know her track record of sticking to something is shit," he continues.

Boy, do I know that.

"So to watch her build a successful life in Columbus over the past four years has been remarkable." He crosses an ankle over his knee. "I didn't learn about what she's accomplished firsthand—she wrote letters. That's all we had."

"I wanted to call so many times," Piper responds. "But I didn't want to argue about Alex, and I knew that was bound to happen."

"I wish you would've called," her mom offers. "But we didn't pick up the phone either. I was grateful for your letters and figured you'd reach out when you were ready."

"I was never going to change my mind about being with Alex," Piper replies. "And I figured you'd never acknowledge that she's such a big part of my life. What kind of relationship can we have if you don't accept the woman I love?"

"I don't know if or when I'll forgive you for turning my daughter in." Bill directs his attention at me. "But I know she loves you with a fiery passion I can't begin to understand."

"It's not ours to understand," his wife chimes in.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "I can try to put the past behind us, but it's going to take some time."

"I get that." I nod. "This isn't about me—it's not even about us." I glance at my wife. "It's about restoring your relationship with Piper. My only goal is to ensure she's happy, and I know being a part of your lives would make her smile. Who wants to live in a world where Piper doesn't smile?"

She gives me an appreciative look.

Bill looks at his daughter. "I've missed you, sweetie."

She gets choked up. "I've missed you, too." Piper gets to her feet at the same time as her parents and they go in for a three-way hug.

I dab my eyes while they're not looking. I didn't expect this conversation to be easy, but I'm glad we had it. I also don't expect a sudden shift in Bill and Carol's qualms about me, but if Piper's happy, I'm happy.

He releases his wife and daughter, then turns to me. "Your answer to this question may quite possibly determine our fate."

My lips twitch and I swallow hard. "Ok?"

"Do you like Scotch?"

My shoulders drop as my lips tic up. "I fucking love it."

"Did you two pick up such harsh language in prison?" Carol asks as she makes her way to what I assume is the kitchen.

"You've said fuck my whole life, Mom," Piper offers. "Suddenly you're offended?"

"I've got a 20-year Glenfiddich I opened just the other day." He juts his head and crooks his elbow in the other direction as if I'm supposed to follow. "It's the perfect blend of sweetness and smoke."

I catch Piper's eye and smile, hoping we've gotten through the toughest part of the evening. She looks as relieved as I feel. While I'd love to have a moment alone with her, it seems Bill has other plans, so I follow him into what could only be described as a Study. One wall is lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves every inch of which is covered by books and a few framed photographs. The others are painted a deep teal and on the one with a window, there are two family portraits. I step closer and look at one where Piper was probably five or six-years-old and in the other, she's definitely a teenager. My lips tug up at images of young Piper.

There's a gold, velvet wingback chair in the corner with a floor lamp that would be the perfect place to smoke a pipe and read a spy novel if I enjoyed either of those things. I wonder if Piper read there as a child. In the center of the room is an old, leather sofa and I wonder if it's been in the family for ages.

"They say Scotch is an acquired taste." Bill moves to the marble bar on the right. "When did you discover your affinity for it?"

"Traveling," I reply, dragging my hand along the back of the sofa. "I've only been to Scotland twice, but both times I visited distilleries in The Highlands."

"I've been to Old Pulteney." Bill pulls out the nubbed cork, then sniffs the contents. "In fact, I might still have a bottle from that trip." He scans the second row of liquor. "Ah, here it is."

I take it from him and examine the label. "I don't think I've tried Old Pulteney. I've been to Speyburn and Glenrothes—both were outstanding."

"I had the Speyburn Bradan Orach for my birthday last year." He pours a drab in two glasses. "It was quite something."

I close my eyes, trying to recall the taste of such an exquisite whisky. "Did it have flavors of green apples and honey?"

"It did." He seems impressed. "I finished it just last month." He hands me a glass.

I swirl the amber liquid, then bring it to my nose. "It's definitely smoky."

Bill sips it. "I'm a fan of peaty whisky."

"I prefer them more balanced, but there's nothing like a super peaty Scotch in the heart of winter." I take a small sip, then swish it around my mouth. "Wow. I couldn't tell you the last time I had Scotch."

"Piper not a fan?"

"No," I chuckle. "Other than the occasional Reposado, she tends to stay away from brown liquor."

He moves to the armchair. "She's always liked tequila."

I take that as my cue to sit. "Still does." I don't share the fact that tequila makes his daughter insatiably horny.

He changes the topic entirely. "I understand you came into some money as part of a legal settlement."

If we never talk about my relationship with Piper or my feelings for her again, I'll be perfectly content. "That's right—$1.75 million."

He crosses his legs. "That's a nice chunk of change."

"I invested a million, but we blew through $75,000 since I was released." I sip the whisky. "Turns out, I'm really good at spending money not so much saving it."

He raises his eyebrows, and I know he's silently judging me for spending that much so quickly.

"The million is in a mutual fund, earning three percent interest."

"You can do better than that," he comments. "Are you interested in diversifying?"

I nod. "I talked to three financial advisors in Columbus, but none of them impressed me. I know you're an accountant, but Piper mentioned you've handled your portfolio on your own over the years."

He takes a sip. "I have."

"Any chance you're willing to give us some advice?" I intentionally use that pronoun, so he knows I consider this our money.

"I'll invest it for you and Piper." He swirls the liquid. "If that's what you're asking."

"We'd be honored," I reply. "But if you prefer to just point us in the right direction, we'll take it."

"Are you hoping to invest all of what's left?"

"No." I take a sip. "We're on the verge of buying a flat in Manhattan. I'll use some of the money as a down payment."

"You're moving?"

"Not exactly." I sit back. "We're staying in Columbus for now, but we've been coming to the City on weekends once a month for over a year. It's getting too expensive to stay at The Beekman."

He lets out a short laugh. "I should say so."

"We've toured nine places, but none of them are exactly what we're looking for."

He gets out of his seat. "Which is?"

"A two-bedroom, one-and-a-half bath brownstone on the Upper Eastside or Westside."

He tops off my glass. "Price range?"

"Thank you." I take a sip. "Less than a million would be ideal, but that's proving to be impossible."

"There are considerably better deals in Lower Manhattan not too far from The Beekman." He pours a few ounces in his glass. "A colleague of mine just bought a two-bedroom place on Canal Street for $975,000."

"We've talked about Tribeca." I'm the one who's open to looking at different neighborhoods, but Piper hasn't budged on location. I don't want her dad to get even one iota of disagreement between us, so I keep that to myself.

He takes a seat. "Do you intend to put 20 percent down?"

"At least 20 percent," I respond. "Interest rates are low enough to make our monthly payments affordable, but if we have to put 25 percent down to make that number drop, that won't be a problem."

Bill runs a finger along the lip of his glass. "Forgive my ignorance, Alex, but are you currently employed?"

I'd be shocked if Piper didn't mention this in one of her letters—chances are, he's sizing me up.

"I have my own web design company," I say. "I just hired my first employee a few months ago."

"And how long have you been out of prison?"

"Almost two years," I reply.

"That's a short amount time to have developed your own business." He lifts his glass in a sort of toast. "Is it successful?"

"As successful as any young business can be, I suppose." I adjust my glasses. "I'm no stranger to hard work."

"Tell you what—why don't you give me $500,000 to play with, and I'll see what I can do to stretch it even further." He stands.

"I'd appreciate it."

"Don't mistake my generosity for acceptance." He approaches the sofa, and I get to my feet. Damned if he thinks he's going to intimidate me with physical posturing. "I want my daughter in my life, so if that means I have to tolerate you for as long as you stick around, so be it."

We're at eye level now, and I smirk. "Then I guess you'll be tolerating me for as long as I'm alive."

My mom reaches for a bottle of wine on the top shelf. "I had no idea how gorgeous Alex was."

"You've seen pictures of her, haven't you?" Sensing she's having trouble reaching it, I stand on my toes to get it. "This one?"

"Yes." She opens a drawer, pulling out a corkscrew. "I've never been good with these things."

"Alex usually does the honors, but I can open it."

"I've only seen a few photos of her on the Internet," she comments. "And those are few and far between."

I stick the corkscrew in and begin twisting. "I could've sworn I'd sent you some."

She shakes her head. "I pictured her being more masculine."

"Alex?" I think about her statement, knowing that anyone who meets my wife wouldn't consider her masculine. "Why?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "You're so feminine, though as I've mentioned before, you've always had a healthy dose of testosterone. I thought you'd be attracted to a…manly woman."

"That's not how it works, Mom." I pull out the cork. "I'm not replacing a man with a woman who resembles one."

"Clearly," she huffs. "Has she done any modeling?"

Alex would get a kick out of that question.

"Not that I know of," I chuckle.

She touches my arm. "You seem really happy, honey."

I smile. "She makes me really happy."

"I hope you're done with all that illegal stuff." Leave it to my mom to doubt our post-prison intentions.

I'm not in the mood to get into an argument about leaving the past in the past, so I don't indulge in such a conversation. "All that seems like a lifetime ago."

She pulls down four wine glasses. "Do you have any wedding pictures?"

"A few." I place the bottle on the counter, then reach for my phone. "We had a simple ceremony with the justice of the peace and two of our friends." I show her the first picture. "That's Jabari. He's the one who represented Alex against Marysville. And that's his wife, Laney."

"Look at you," she says, ignoring our witnesses. "That's a lovely dress."

"Thank you." I smile.

"Though it's not the traditional wedding dress I pictured you walking down the aisle in," she comments.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. "It was a hot summer day. Linen felt appropriate."

I scroll through six more pictures. "We didn't take official photographs. It seemed like a waste of money."

She seems flabbergasted. "This is all you have?"

I stick my phone in my back pocket. "Alex might have a few more."

She pours two glasses of wine. "What a shame."

I swirl the red liquid. "It's not like you'd frame one and place it on the mantle."

"Maybe we would."

I take a sip. "We both know that won't happen, Mom."

"Your father needs to warm up to the idea that you're spending the rest of your life with a felon." I assume she adjusts her statement after I give her a death stare. "I know you've already forgiven her for turning you in. He'll get there; it's just going to take time."

"What happened to that whole story about cans of corn?"

"I stand by my statement when you were at Litchfield." She sips the wine. "I'm glad you were there for each other during the darkest times. I'm a little surprised it's lasted, but all I want is for you to be happy."

"Thank you." I tilt my head. "I mean it."

She grabs the plates from the cabinet. "I'd still like another grandchild, but I suppose that's not in the cards."

"You saw me with Goodall before I moved," I reply. "The maternal gene somehow skipped right over me."

"You certainly weren't a natural," she sighs. "Will you grab forks and knives? The napkins are already on the table."

I get the silverware and follow her to the dining room. When I was growing up, we only had special occasion meals in this room—Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas and the occasional birthday dinner. I find it interesting they'd choose to host a meal in here upon meeting Alex for the first time.

She sets the plates at each seat. "Tell me about your job."

I fill her in on my law career, as short as it's been, and she seems pleased that I've committed to a respectable profession. I'm sure it doesn't hurt that I'm making a decent living, too.

She returns to the kitchen and lifts the lid on the Crockpot. "Have you two discussed moving home?"

"We're actually in town for more than just seeing you," I admit. "Alex and I have been coming to New York once a month for about a year. We're looking for a place to buy as a second home."

"Really?" Her brows creep up. "Why not relocate permanently?"

"Because both of us have jobs in Columbus," I state. "We might end up living in Manhattan one day, but not anytime soon."

"I just miss seeing you, honey." She covers my hand with her own. "Cal misses you, too."

"I miss him and Neri and my niece." I smile. "Maybe we can see them tomorrow."

"I'm sure he'd like that."

We talk about life in Ohio for the next 15 minutes, and I wonder how things are going with Alex and my dad in the other room. I know she can hold her own, but I hope he's being kind to her.

"The roast and vegetables have been done for an hour." My mom glances at the clock on the microwave. "We should eat soon."

"I'll get them."

I walk into the Study to see Alex and my dad standing eye-to-eye. "Anybody hungry?"

They both turn my way.

"I could eat," Alex replies.

My dad places a hand on his stomach. "I guess I lost track of time."

"We'll be right there." I stay in the Study as my father exits. "How'd it go?"

"As long as we're not talking about when I fucked you over, your dad isn't so bad."

I make a face. "Don't say the words fucking me and my dad's name in the same sentence ever again."

She kisses me through a smile. "Have I told you recently how much I love you?"

"No." I pretend to be serious, but we say those words to each other daily.

"Well, I do." She kisses my forehead. "You were brave to face them tonight."

"I'm not the brave one."

"You are. We could've lived in our little bubble without their blessing forever, and I would've been fine." She caresses my cheek. "That's not who you are—you love them; they love you."

I nod.

"Dinner is ready!" My mom calls.

I tug her out of the Study by the hand, but there's something in her eyes that feels off. If I find out my dad tried to intimidate Alex, I'll be furious. For now, I'm going to enjoy the company of the people I love most in this world.