Page 173 of The Sweetest Devotion

My father ran a hand down his face, guilt taking his eyes. “I…I didn’t like it when he brought you into the deal. I wanted to wring his neck for even having the balls to bring you up, but then, I looked at it from an angle of him being a successful young man who didn’t have any baggage. Cain seemed like a nice guy for you.” He studied me, becoming serious. “What? Did he hit you?”

I scoffed. “We are not about to run down a list of things Cain didn’t do to me when the most important thing is I didn’t want him.”

My father didn’t have a quick response for that.

A silence fell between us, setting a tone for a defining moment in our relationship. I was ready to walk away if needed be, leaving him behind no matter the state of his health. It cut me deep to think of doing this, but it had to be done.

“I’m sorry, Neddy. I crossed a line and I should’ve respected your voice more,” my father began. “You were hurting and I just ignored your cries, and I’m so sorry.”

It wouldn’t fix the past, but it was a start.

“Maybe with me in Bedford Heights and you here, it’ll give you time to really think about what you did.”

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. “Excuse me?”

“It’s important, to grow up, to move on and find myself. I’d like to own a house and make a home for myself,” I said. “Throw myself into something like what Mom does with her charities.”

“A house? In Bedford Heights? Never,” my father stated adamantly.

“Dad,” I said.

“You want a house of your own? Fine, I’ll buy you a house. Here in Hampton Hills.”

“Why? So, you can snatch it from me the next time I don’t do as you say?” I challenged.

My father shook his head. “This will never happen again. You have my word. I’ll write it out, sign a contract, whatever it takes for you to believe me. I just want to look out for you.”

“I don’t want to be bought,” I said. “I feel like you weaponized my inheritance. I’d rather take what money I earned on my own and get something modest that I can feel safe in.”

“Going forward, from this day on, my business is mine and Phil’s alone,” my father swore, looking me in the eye. “I’m not trying to win you over by this offer, I just simply want to do something for you. You want a house; you can have a house.”

“In Bedford Heights,” I clarified.

My father scowled. “Absolutely not.”

I threw my hands up. “See! You’re not even considering what I want.”

He huffed. “Fine, we’ll get you a house in anicepart of Bedford Heights, and we’ll install a security gate, security cameras?—”

I groaned. “That’s dramatic.”

“Fine, you pick the house, but you will call me every day. Those are my terms and conditions.” My father wouldn’t budge. He was going to be a dad no matter what. Bedford Heights didn’t have the best reputation, and I admittedly was sheltered and not street smart.

His papa bear side tugged at my heart strings. I wanted my space and my own home, but first, I wanted my father more.

“You really hurt me,” I said softly.

My father nodded, his eyes glistening as he looked away and wiped at them. “Keith said something to me that I can’t shake. He said that most people when diagnosed with illnesses, whether terminal or not, make the choice to bond with their loved ones and cherish life more, not move on to the next merger. Nichols & Wagner has always been important to me, but it could never replace you and your mother.

“Whatever the next move you want to make, whether it’s moving into a shoebox in Bedford Heights or finding a place here in the city, I’ll support you. I just want my baby girl to stay in my life for whatever time I have left. I want to work on us, dedicate a day a week for us to move forward and just connect. I want to hear more about Keith. He seems like a great young man. I wantusto be a priority. Would that be okay?”

He would support me whether I stayed or left, so long as we could still be father and daughter.

That was all I needed to hear before going and collapsing on his lap and smothering my face into the crook of his neck.

37

eight months later

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