Page 76 of Her Possessive Daddies

"You picked this place on purpose." Chandler slumps into the chair across from me, his usual cocky demeanor dampened by something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

"Actually, I didn't." I take a sip of my black coffee, studying him over the rim. "But the irony isn't lost on me. This is where you broke up with her, isn't it?"

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "Dad-"

"No. My turn to talk, for once, and you're going to listen." Setting down my cup, I level a steely gaze on him. "You treated her like shit, Chandler. Made her feel worthless for having ambition, for wanting more than just being your party accessory."

"That's not-"

"It is. And now you're throwing a tantrum because she found someone who appreciates her? Who sees her worth?"

"Someone like you?" His words drip with accusation. "My father? You're at least twenty years older than her."

"Yes. Like me." The admission hangs between us. "And you know what? I'm not apologizing for it. For once in my life, I found someone who makes me happy. Really happy."

Chandler's eyes drop to his untouched capuccino. "Right here. This exact table. I told her she was boring." His laugh comes out bitter. "Guess she proved me wrong."

"You didn't deserve her then. And you don't get to play the victim now."

"So what? I'm just supposed to be okay with my dad dating my ex?"

"You're supposed to be an adult about it. Something you've never quite mastered." I study the boy - because that's what he still is - across from me. "I've put my life on hold for you more times than I can count. Rearranged everything when your mother dumped you on my doorstep. But I'm done sacrificing my happiness for your tantrums."

I rest my hands on the table. "Look at me." I wait until Chandler's eyes meet mine. "Every time you need money, who do you call? Every time you're in trouble, who bails you out? And what have you done with any of those chances?"

"I told you I want to start school again-"

"And I've heard that before. Right before you blew through another semester's tuition on a yacht trip in the south of France." The coffee between us grows cold, forgotten. "I'm not funding another one of your false starts."

His face flushes red. "So what, no more chance at getting back in?"

"No. I'm giving you one last chance to prove you're serious." I take out my phone, checking the time. "You want start school againl? Fine. Show me a real plan. Show me you've researched programs, careers, something beyond just partying with a different crowd."

"This isn't fair-"

"Life isn't fair. You think I wanted to become a father at thirty to a twelve-year-old I didn't know existed? But I stepped up. I took responsibility. Now it's your turn."

Chandler slumps further into his chair. "And if I don't?"

"Then you’re on your own. No more bailouts, no more blank checks." I stand, dropping cash on the table for our coffees. "Time to decide what kind of man you want to be, son. Because right now? You're still that angry twelve-year-old who showed up at my door, blaming everyone else for his problems. You're a drain on society, on me, on everyone you know, and I won't stand for it anymore."

Chandler's shoulders slump, the fight leaving him. "Dad, I... I'm sorry."

The words catch me off guard. In all these years, I've never heard a genuine apology from him.

"I know I've been a disappointment. The way I treated Abbie, the way I've treated you..." He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes looking suspiciously glassy. "You're right. About everything."

"I'm listening." I settle back into my chair, giving him space to continue.

"When I saw her at your house, looking so... different. Happy. Confident. I realized what an ass I'd been." His voice cracks. "She wanted to better herself, and I made her feel small for it. Just like I've done with every opportunity you've given me."

The coffee shop bustles around us, but in this moment, it's just father and son.

"I want to do better, Dad. Not just say it this time." He pulls out his phone, fingers trembling slightly as he opens his browser. "I've been researching business programs. Real ones, not just party schools. I thought... maybe I could learn from you. Actually learn."

I lift an eyebrow, skeptical. "Show me."

He slides the phone across the table. Course listings, admission requirements, career projections - actual research, not the half-assed attempts I'm used to seeing.

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