Page 117 of Always Knew It Was You

“A little,” she says with a smile. “But that’s not why I was calling you. I think maybe you should go back in there and talk to them. Without me.”

“Not happening.”

“Come on, Micah.” She sighs. “At least for your dad. I don’t think he has the same problem that your grandfather has with me. I think your dad was more hurt that you were dodging his calls and didn’t tell him that you were engaged. You didn’t see his face when we were leaving, but he seemed pretty devastated.”

“He’s devastated that he’s losing his second heir, the person who he thinks is going to take over his corporation and he’s mad that he can’t control me with money anymore,” I point out testily. “Even if I have to be dirt poor, I’m not going to kowtow to him. I’ll figure out some way to make it. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Carly smiles at me, gently her hands touching my cheek. “That’s sweet. And thank you for defending me back there. But I just want to ask, could you possibly be reading your dad wrong in this situation?”

I shake my head. “I’ve known that man for years. I know what he wants from me.”

“Oh yeah? And you’ve never been wrong about him? Just like you’ve never been wrong about your grandpa.”

“Well...” I hate to admit that I didn’t think my grandfather would pull something like this. He’s always seemed too straightforward a man.

“Could it also be possible that your negative thoughts about your father might have been at least partially initiated by your grandfather?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but then my mind lingers on a few conversations here and there, where my grandfather would casually mention how my father clearly prefers my brother, and how my brother is better at business than I am, but that I probably had other talents elsewhere.

I thought he was sticking up for me, pointing out the inequality.

Now, I have to think again.

Huh. How come I never saw that before?

Not to say that my father was completely blameless in the deterioration of our relationship and he definitely did enough things to warrant my doubt of him, but maybe… hmm.

“Maybe things aren’t exactly the way you think they are,” she says.

I smirk. “Is this you turning my words against me?” I said the same thing to her a few days ago, about the townspeople not hating her as much as she thinks they do.

She shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

I shake my head and tweak her nose affectionately. “How did you figure all this out anyway?”

“Just a hunch.” She smiles gently. “They kind of remind me of my family, but it’s easier to see things clearer from the outside looking in. Go back there. Talk to your father. I’ll be right out here waiting for you.” She glances behind her, at the fancy neighborhood park. “In fact, I think I’ll sit on that bench.”

“Alright, but don’t talk to any strangers while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” she quips as I brush my mouth over hers again.

And then I sigh, turn around, and head back into the house to speak to my father.

They’re still in the living room, and my grandfather is ranting about something when I arrive, with my father listening on quietly. His eyes flicker to me when I walk in and my grandfather falls silent.

I still can’t forget what he said about Carly, so I ignore my grandfather and focus on my father instead.

“You said you want to talk,” I say. “Now talk.”

He nods. “Dad, please leave us.”

My grandfather looks incensed. “This is my home. How dare you make demands on me?”

“Please,” my father stresses, throwing him a pleading look.

My father stares at him and digests that. He stands and with all the dignity he can muster, he walks into the adjoining living room.

And then my father says, “Micah…”

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