Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
The front door opened without a knock, and my father stepped inside like he owned the place. Which, technically, he helped pay for, but that wasn’t the point. His face was set in hard lines, jaw already stiff with barely contained fury.
“Andrew.” His voice carried that particular tone that meant I was about to get lectured like I was still twelve years old. “We need to discuss your poor judgment.”
I tightened my grip on Rory, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “Hello to you too, Dad. Please, come on in,” I said sarcastically.
His eyes swept the room, taking in Harper standing there with her arms still crossed and Ava frozen by the couch. When his gaze landed back on Harper, his expression grew even colder.
“Miss Tinsley.” The words came out like he’d tasted something rotten. “How convenient that you’re here.”
Harper’s chin lifted slightly, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. “Mr. Dumontier.”
Dad turned his attention back to me. “I need to speak with you alone. It’s a family matter.”
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of everyone in this room,” I replied.
Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I moved closer to Harper, a show of solidarity. “Harper’s not going anywhere.”
“Andrew—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended.
But this. This right here was why I’d always hated hearing my full name.
There was always an underlying tone of scorn when it was used.
At least when Harper had shortened it to Andy, it had been kind of playful, even if she did it to torture me.
But I wouldn’t let my dad walk in here and make me feel bad for the best thing that had ever happened to me.
“This is my house, Dad. My life. My choice.”
“Your choice?” Dad’s laugh was hollow and bitter. “You think this is about choice? This is about loyalty, Andrew. About family honor. About everything our family has worked for.”
Rory started getting fussy in my arms, sensing the tension in the room. I tried bouncing her gently, but she only got more agitated, her little whimpers escalating toward full crying.
“What exactly are you suggesting?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea where this was headed.
“I’m suggesting that you’re being naive.
” Dad’s voice got harder with each word.
“The Tinsleys have been looking for ways to hurt our family for generations. Your great-grandfather trusted hers once, and it cost us everything. Now she shows up here, conveniently needing help with projects, playing the perfect little caretaker to my granddaughter?”
“That’s enough.” The words came out low and dangerous.
But Dad was just getting started. “You think this is coincidence, son? You think she actually cares about you? The Tinsleys nearly cost us our legacy once,” he continued, his voice getting harder. “I will not stand by and watch them do it again through my granddaughter.”
Rory’s crying got worse, and despite my attempts to calm her, I didn’t think I was the person she wanted right now. Harper looked at me, a question in her eyes. I nodded slightly, and she reached out, gently taking my daughter from my arms.
Almost immediately, Rory began to settle as Harper started that automatic swaying motion, humming softly under her breath. The transformation was instant—my daughter melting into Harper’s embrace like she belonged there.
And that’s when my dad completely lost it.
“I will not have my granddaughter raised by a Tinsley!” he exploded, his control finally snapping. “I will not watch this family be destroyed from the inside out because my son is thinking with his dick instead of his brain!”
The words cracked through the room, sharp enough to make Harper flinch. Fury and the urge to protect her surged hot in my chest, impossible to hold back.
“Get out,” I said quietly.
“What?” That seemed to take some of the wind out of his sails.
“You heard me.” I took Rory from Harper’s arms and handed her to Ava, who had been frozen by the kitchen doorway. “Ava, can you take her upstairs?”
My sister nodded quickly, holding Rory close as she disappeared toward the stairs.
When I turned back to face my father, every ounce of rage I’d been holding back crystallized into a cold, unshakable resolve.
“This is my house,” I said, my voice deadly quiet. “My daughter. My girlfriend. And if you can’t respect the people I love, then you need to leave.”
Dad’s face went white, then red. “You’re choosing her over your family?”
“I’m choosing to make my own decisions instead of living by grudges that started before I was born.” I took a step toward him. “I’m choosing to be the kind of man I want my daughter to respect.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe. But it’s my mistake to make.”
He shook his head like he was so disgusted with me he was at a loss for words.
“For two men who claim to despise each other, you and my father reacted almost the exact same way to finding out about us,” Harper said.
“Maybe you’re not as different as you like to think.
Maybe you should look at your life and ask yourself why holding on to that stupid feud is so important—especially if it could cost you your children. ”
His voice was low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare compare me to that man.”
“Why not?” I pressed. “You both walked into your kid’s home uninvited. You both demanded they choose between love and family loyalty. You both used the exact same threats.” I paused, letting that sink in. “Maybe the feud has turned you into exactly what you claim to hate.”
For a moment, I was sure a flicker of doubt crossed his face—maybe even the first crack in his absolute certainty. But then his expression hardened again, the wall slamming back into place.
He opened his mouth like he was going to fire back—but instead he turned, his boots echoing against the hardwood as he walked out without another word. It didn’t exactly feel like a victory, but I wasn’t going to back down.
This feud had gone on long enough. And I wasn’t going to choose a battle I’d never had any skin in over the woman I loved.
Harper grabbed my hand, twining her fingers with mine. “You okay?”
Was I?
“No,” I admitted honestly, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “I love my family and I don’t like fighting with my parents, but…” I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. Her brown eyes held worry that I wished I could kiss away.
“But?” she whispered.
Maybe my words would be enough.
“But I love you more.”
The words tasted equal parts terrifying and true, but holding her in my arms, I knew I’d never meant anything more.