Page 132 of Say It Isn't So

We didn’t say anything else, just stayed like that for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, but it was exactly what we needed. I inhaled deeply, fully taking it all in. I missed him. More than I’d thought.

Dad kissed my cheek before backing up and taking his seat again.

“Angelo, it’s nice to see you again,” Knox said, trying his best.

Frankly, it warmed my heart to see. I was grateful. Grateful to this man who had stuck by me when any other man would have run for the hills in a tough-as-nails situation like this.

Don’t think I hadn’t noticed the way Dad had clearly been trying to ignore Knox. I just wasn’t going to dwell on that. I’d known where he stood on that particular topic, and that was why Knox and I were going to have dinner with him and try to make things right. For the briefest of moments, though, it was nice to haveusback—our dad and daughter dynamic.

Still ignoring Knox (seriously, he didn’t even look his way), Dad said, “Please join me,” and gestured to the chair in front of him.

“Thank you, Angelo,” Knox returned.

It was a two-person table, so Knox dragged a chair over and set it beside my dad before gesturing for me to sit. Knox pushed my chair in and walked to the opposite side of my father’s chair and sat across from him. Their gazes locked, but neither said a word. Talk about a tense situation.

I studied Knox’s posture. It was fighter-ready, his back straight and chest out, like he was prepared to go a dozen rounds with the man in front of him if need be.

My dad sat up, too, his brows arched and his eyes narrowed as he stared in Knox’s direction, clearly hoping Knox was getting the silent message he was conveying. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what my dad was thinking:I don’t want you here, do you understand me? The only reason I’m even forcing myself to tolerate you is for my daughter.

Believe me, he might have seemed scary, but on the inside he was a soft teddy bear, the same man that used to play dolls with me when I was little because Mom was working and he wanted to be part of my childhood.

Oh, and what was I doing? Well, I was looking out of the corner of my eyes at Knox and Dad, Knox and Dad. I twisted my fingers together in my lap, my palms sweaty.

I cleared my throat audibly. “It’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?” I asked and took off my jean jacket and hung it on the back of my chair.

They both looked at me, expressions soft. “No,” they said in unison and looked at each other as though startled by the prospect that they could agree on something.

“Are you okay?” Knox inquired, leaning over and finding my hand in my lap. He gave it a little squeeze and I relaxed at his touch.

My dad gave him a like-you-give-a-shit look and I shook my head, removing Knox’s hand from mine and shifting in my seat. “Enough,” I said, a little too loud to even my own ears.

They both whipped their heads back to me.

“What’s going on, Bianca?” my dad finally asked the one question that must’ve been on his mind since we’d arrived.

Ugh, why was this so hard for me to get out?

Daddy, Knox and I are together and nothing you say is going to change that. Just thought you should know. Oh, and by the way, he’s coming with me to the Hamptons.

No, that wouldn’t do.

Daddy, you’ve always told me you want me to be happy. And, well. . . Knox makes me happy.

That was too cheesy and sappy.

See, nothing was good enough; nothing sounded right. That was it, this was a mistake. We were leaving. We had to, right? No other choice. Oh, well. At least I tried.

I looked to Knox and gave him a sheepish look—one he would know meant that I was at odds with myself and was considering leaving.

He smiled and I broke out in goosebumps. Knox was trying his hardest to give me the validation I so desperately needed without saying a word, and it was working. I turned to Dad, swallowed hard and went for it—“Daddy, Knox and I are seeing each other.”

His immediate reaction: spinning the ring on his finger.

Of course he did. I’d just told him I was going against what he wanted and doing what I wanted regardless.

In less eloquent terms, it basically went a little something like this:

Dad: I forbid it.

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