Chapter 32 #2
I watch him squeeze lime over the salsa, and wonder—not for the first time—if he’s guarding more than just his freedom. Had losing Mom left a scar so deep that he refuses to let anyone close enough to reopen it?
“I know it’s not the same, Dad, but do you remember after Hollis, when you told me not to block my heart from love?”
“I did, and I meant it.” He looks over in earnest. “Being mistreated by someone you trusted can leave long-term wounds. I didn’t want your beautiful heart marred by a man who never deserved it.
I’m thankful you were able to leave him, Ray.
Seeing you in a sleeveless dress, not hiding your skin or yourself…
that’s the best thing I could ask for. You’ve grown so much, baby. ”
He cups my cheek. “You know what you want. And you’re going after it.
You don’t have to worry about your old man.
My heart isn’t closed. I loved your mother with everything in me.
I’m not afraid of loving like that again, I just haven’t felt it.
And I’m okay with that. I don’t need marriage to have a good life. ”
“So, you’re asking me to stop badgering you?”
“Not in those words.” He smiles. “But yes, you could ease up on the push.”
“Okay.” I smile back. “I’ll stop being the overbearing daughter.”
“You’re not that,” he says, handing me the spatula. “Might be projecting a little, though.”
“Yeah… probably,” I admit, scooping crispy rice from the skillet onto the plates. “I don’t need a man to be happy, but I love the idea of that exclusive union. It’s not just the paper or the ceremony—it’s about choosing each other.”
He nods. “You’ll find that with the right man. And he’ll be damn lucky to have you.”
Dinner is delicious, and the conversation flows. Dad and I never run out of things to talk about, from politics, town gossip, to his latest book. The retelling of Rapunzel, where box braids are her strength. I love that.
Once the kitchen is cleaned and I add a splash of brandy to our coffees, we move to the back deck. It’s cooler now with the sun sinking into the horizon. As we settle on the cushioned wicker chairs, I light a citronella candle, watching its small flame dance against the coral sky.
Dad takes a bite of the loaf and closes his eyes. “You outdid yourself with this one.”
“You say that every time.” I laugh, sipping my carajillo. It’s the same exact recipe, but Dad is my biggest fan, no matter what. So… here goes.
I set my mug down. “Dad?”
“Yeah?” He glances at me with a contented sigh.
“You said earlier that I’ll find the right man.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I think I have.”
He blinks, caught off guard. “You’re seeing someone?”
“For several weeks now.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
“We’ve been keeping it on the low.”
He sits up now, his posture snapping from curious to protective in a single second.
I take a breath before letting the truth surface. “I wasn’t at The Aqua last weekend. I was with him at a rented house in Grove Cove. I’m sorry I lied to you. We promised to always be honest with each other, and I broke that.”
He nods, accepting the weight of my apology. “Is it Dakarai Ramos?”
I freeze. There are only the sounds of the crickets chirping, the squeals of children playing a few yards away, and my heart pounding.
“I felt something between you two at The Ship Mate,” he adds.
“We weren’t together then,” I tell him everything—meeting a month ago through the app, the insane coincidence at Diablo’s office, not being able to fight what was building. “We’re falling in love.”
He shakes his head. “Ray, the man doesn’t just work for Diablo—he’s running his campaign. Against you.”
“You knew that when you wanted to invite him to dinner.”
“I don’t have to like his job to break bread with him. But welcoming him into the family when that job is to take my daughter down, that’s a different story.”
“He’s not trying to take me down in any cruel or undermining way.”
“Accusing you of holding Bayside back and being the town’s economic drain isn’t undermining?” Dad balks. “How is that okay? Because it’s in the context of his job?”
“Your concerns are valid. You don’t trust him yet. But Dakarai is my champion. He wants me to succeed. I know that sounds at odds with his job, but I have no doubts about the way he feels about me.”
“How do you know he isn’t manipulating you? Using your feelings to benefit Diablo?”
I bristle at the insinuation. “Do you think I’m still that gullible? That I’d let a man play in my face like that again?”
“No. But some men are good at deception. They fool even the most discerning people.”
“That’s not DK. He’s risking his job, too. His career. His reputation.”
“That’s hardly on the same level.”
“Maybe not. But you said yourself that you liked him. That he impressed you as being a together brother.”
“That’s what he gives off. Doesn’t mean it’s real.” He looks at me intently. “I can’t just ignore the fact that he strategizes ways to publicly deconstruct who you are and what you stand for.”
“It’s not personal, Dad. I wouldn’t want him to hold back or make it easy for me. We can exist as equals, even on different sides.”
Doubt remains etched in the tightness of his features.
“He respects me,” I continue, hoping to make him understand.
“He sees me, I mean, really sees me. He’s not just brilliant, he’s kind and loving.
He’s been through his own hell and came out stronger.
He sends me care packages, my favorite champagne, and he bought these bandages for my feet today after he saw me limping.
That’s DK. He wants to call you—not as some outdated ritual, but because he wants to tell you himself how he feels. ”
“Baby girl…” He exhales. “I’m not trying to rain on your romance, but you really dropped a bomb on me.”
“Is it too much to accept?” I ask around the knot in my throat. It wouldn’t change how I feel about DK, but I couldn’t bear a rift between us.
His hand covers mine—the same hand that bandaged every scrape and dried every tear.
“I’m sure you’ve thought about what this could do to your campaign.”
“We both have.”
He studies me, his eyes reflective, as if he’s rolling back the years. “Even as a child, you never took the road most traveled. This one is full of hazards, but… I just have to trust the woman I raised. If you tell me he’s the real deal, then I’ll take his call.”
Relief rushes through me. My dad is a fair man, but he’s also cautious. He and DK have that in common.
“Thanks, Dad,” I murmur, squeezing his hand.
“Now I know why I got coconut loaf.” His voice loses some of its edge, though he holds a straight face.
“Not a bribe,” I say. “Just softening you up a little.”
“He really bought you bandages?”
I nod, smiling. “An entire pharmacy’s worth. Gel inserts, blister pads, the works.”
Dad huffs, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt of begrudging respect. “At least the man has sense enough to look after your feet.”
And my heart. But I don’t say that.
I’ll let DK speak for himself.