For a long time, nobody spoke. The ocean glittered outside the windows, and somewhere far below, the engines hummed.
Finally, Dad looked up at me. His eyes were wet.
“Why are you showing me this?” he asked. “After what I said to you?”
I thought about it.
“Because you’re my father,” I said. “You stood in a courtroom when I was eight years old and told a judge you wanted me. I still have the picture. Me in a yellow dress, holding your hand on the courthouse steps.” My voice cracked. “You taught me to change a tire. You walked me into my first day of high school. Whatever you said in that buffet, you were my dad for twenty-seven years. I’m not going to watch some con man take your business because you’re too proud to see it.”
Dad stared at me. Then, for the first time in my life, I watched my father cry.
He didn’t sob. He just sat at that glass table in a penthouse suite on a cruise ship his daughter paid for while tears ran down his peeling cheeks, and he didn’t wipe them away.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said hoarsely. “What I said. About you coming with the house.”
“Then why did you say it?”
He was quiet for a long time.
“Because Brandon kept saying it,” he said finally. “Not in those words. But he’d say things like, ‘Millie’s always acting like she’s above everybody. Millie thinks she owns you because she lent you money. She’s not even really a Miller.’ And I’d get angry. Not at him. At you.” He shook his head. “Because he was right that I owed you. I’ve owed you for years, and I hated it. A man’s supposed to take care of his kids. Not the other way around.”
“Dad…”
“Every time you wrote a check, I felt like less of a man,” he said. “And Brandon figured that out. He knew exactly what to say.”
Mom was crying now too.
“He told your father you’d ruin everything,” she said to me. “He said if you came on this trip, you’d find out about the partnership and humiliate Richard in front of everyone. He said the only way to protect the family was to keep you away.”
“Protect the family,” I repeated.
Uncle Ray let out a short, humorless laugh. “Classic.”
Dad wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“What do I do?” he said. It wasn’t a demand. He was asking me.
“Don’t sign anything,” I said. “Not tomorrow, not ever, not with Brandon. And talk to Vanessa before he proposes tonight.”
Dad looked stricken. “Tonight? He’s got the ring. He’s going to do it at the captain’s dinner, in front of everybody.”
“Then you’d better talk to her first,” I said.
Ethan Blake is a skilled Creative Content Specialist with a talent for crafting engaging and thought-provoking narratives. With a strong background in storytelling and digital content creation, Ethan brings a unique perspective to his role at TheArchivists, where he curates and produces captivating content for a global audience.
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