Page 105 of The Defender
My heart skipped. Scarlett and Carina were at work, and there was only one other person who’d show up unannounced.
I hurried to the front door, but my smile quickly faded when I opened it and saw who was on the other side.
My dad greeted me with a stiff nod. “Can I come in?”
I quashed the petty part of me that wanted to say no. He was still my dad, and this conversation was a long time coming.
After I let him in, we took seats opposite each other in the living room. He broke the silence first. “Vincent told me everything last night. Budapest. Him visiting you after the gala. The fact that you’re…together.” He stumbled over the last word.
I hid a flash of surprise. Vincent and I had agreed to tell him, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. It’d been less than twelve hours since we got together.
Part of me was relieved. I hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell my dad, and ironically, we’d swapped confessions with our family members—me to Scarlett, him to my father.
“Are you serious about being with him?” my dad asked, his tone neutral. His telltale vein wasn’t throbbing in his forehead, which was a good sign. No imminent nuclear meltdown.
“I am.” I answered plainly and honestly. There was no use playing coy when all our cards were already on the table.
“You told me you’d never date a footballer.”
“Trust me. I’m as surprised as anyone,” I said with a rueful laugh. “I really like him, Dad. I didn’t want to. It would be easier on so many levels if our relationship remained platonic. But I can’t choose who I have feelings for, and to be honest…I’ve had feelings for him for a while.”
I wasn’t used to talking to my parents about this kind of stuff, and the words sounded awkward coming out of my mouth.
“That’s what he said too.” A stern line formed between my dad’s brows. “Do you know what he told me? He said that he wasn’t asking, he wastellingme that you two are together. He’d like my blessing, but if he didn’t get it, he was going to be with you anyway. Because you’re worth it.”
I would’ve laughed at the mental image of Vincent talking to my dad that way had a giant lump not lodged itself in my throat.
I knew how important my dad was to his players. They all idolized him, including Vincent. That he’d risk losing my dad’s permanent goodwill because he’d rather be with me…
No one had ever put me first in such an undeniable way.
Emotion swelled behind my ribcage. I blinked and tried to clear my suddenly blurry vision while my dad continued talking.
“I didn’t know whether I should punch him or shake his hand for having the balls to say that to me,” he said. “But I figured I shouldn’t do anything and see where things go with you two, for all of our sakes.”
I let the words sink in. “Does that mean you’re okay with us dating?”
“I’ll tolerate it,” he said gruffly. “Vincent’s a good captain and he has a good heart, but I don’t trust any of those guys to date you, which is why I told you to stay away from them. But as he so impertinently pointed out last night, you’re an adult. If I want to stay in your life, I have to let you make your own decisions. So here we are.”
“Do you?” I asked quietly. “Want to stay in my life, I mean.”
“Of course I do. You’re my daughter.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know our past conversations about this haven’t been…the best, but you’re right. I haven’t been the most involved parent, and it’s hypocritical of me to try and tell you what to do now. But I can’t change the past. I can only do better in the future. My reactions to you leaving Blackcastle and living with Vincent may have seemed overbearing, but that was me trying to protect you. I don’t…” He waved a hand around the room. “I don’t know how to give you advice on relationship troubles or, I dunno, what shoes to wear with your dress. But I can set things up so that you don’t get hurt. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying.”
It was the most words I’d ever heard him utter in one go.
I swallowed. Part of me wanted to punish him for not being there and for leaving me with my mom for the past twenty-odd years, but did I really want to dwell on the past? Like he said, we couldn’t change it. He was finally opening up, and I’d moved to London because I wanted to build a stronger relationship with him. I couldn’t do that if I kept looking back instead of forward.
“I don’t expect you to be perfect, Dad, but I do want you to be present. I also want our relationship to be about more than football.” I took a deep breath. “Speaking of which, I know you talked to HR about extending my decision deadline. Don’t ask me how I found out, but I did.”
My initial anger had died down, but embers of it still glimmered whenever I thought about it.
For the first time in recent memory, my dad looked embarrassed. “I was worried when you didn’t make an immediate decision. I wanted you to have enough time to think it through properly.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but by doing that, you fed into the idea that I’m getting special treatment because I’m an Armstrong. If you were concerned, you could’vetalkedto me about it. That’s our problem. Communication.”
I expected pushback, but my dad simply said, “You’re right. I’ve gotten so used to doing things my way that I...didn’t quite think my actions through. I’m sorry,” he added gruffly, his expression as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen it.
Frank Armstrong didn’t apologize often, but when he did, he meant it.
