Chapter 35 Gabe
GABE
Shock. Happy shock. She hasn’t confirmed, but she doesn’t need to. I can feel the answer in her posture. In her silence.
My pulse kicks up, a steady thud against my ribs.
I’ve spent years reading every small shift in her body language, every forced smile, every tremor she tried to hide.
This isn’t fear.
It’s relief.
I turn Drew for a kiss, and she softens a little further. She’s so goddamn sweet. I’m never getting over being able to touch her this way.
Her breath catches against my lips, and the taste of cider and winter air floods my senses.
For the first time in forever, she isn’t bracing for impact.
She’s just here—with us. With me.
Greyson swoops in for his own kiss before his mouth settles on her forehead. “Guess that means I’m gonna have to start practicing my Dad jokes. Better sooner than later, right?”
It breaks the tension completely as she grins up at him.
The three of us are the perfect mix for her. It’s not what I imagined for myself, but I can’t say I’m unhappy about it.
A strange kind of peace settles in my chest—heavy but good. Like the ache of finally getting what you’ve wanted so long it feels foreign.
But when I peer over her shoulder, I spot her parents across the room.
Her father’s face is molten red, and her mom is holding his arm, barely restraining him.
He’s about to storm over and cause a scene.
A bigger spectacle than we’ve already created.
That old protective instinct flares, the one that used to send me to find her when her father’s shouting got too loud.
Drew stiffens between us, and I know she’s spotted them, too. “Shit.”
“Take her back to the offices. I’ll referee.” I give her another kiss and send them on their way, cutting off the Bennetts’ trajectory.
My jaw flexes as I step between them. It’s automatic—my body remembering every time I had to stand in front of her.
Andy hisses at me, none too quiet. “What is this I’m hearing about the three of you with my daughter? Of knocking her up? We just got her back—”
“Andy, let’s not give anyone more fuel for the gossip.” I lift my brow at him as he peers around. We are clearly being watched.
The crowd’s hum is static against my skin, every whisper a spark ready to ignite. I keep my tone calm, low, measured, because someone has to.
The chattering is picking up steam. They’ll explode in a fury the moment we’re out of the room.
“Take me to my daughter.” Andy’s voice is low, but his anger has amplified. He’s always been too proud for his own good. For his daughters’ good.
Nodding, I escort him through the banquet hall, out to the lobby, and behind the desk to where our offices are.
As expected, they’re waiting for us in Adam’s office. It’s the right choice.
He’s got the most authority in this room.
Andy nearly blows a gasket the moment we step into the room. “Tell me this isn’t true. Tell me I didn’t just hear my daughter’s name being dragged through the dirt again.”
I shut the door behind us and cross my arms. This is the version of her father that I don’t like. That I’ve never liked. It’s the one that hurts her more than any of the others.
The one that left her crying into my hoodie countless times over the years, swearing she’d get out of here and never come back.
Mary, though, wraps Drew up in her arms almost immediately. It doesn’t save her from flinching from Andy’s words.
“I love you, my girl.” Mary presses a kiss to Drew’s forehead.
“You’re not thinking clearly. These men—this mess—this isn’t who you are,” Andy rages.
Adam’s face darkens behind Drew, eyes narrowing at Andy.
He’s got no idea.
This man is just getting started.
Tearing her down and molding her into his idea of a perfect daughter instead of supporting who she truly is.
She’s finally growing into herself, gaining confidence, and he’s going to fuck this up.
My hands fist at my sides, nails biting into my palms. If he makes her cry again, I swear—
“We just got you back, and now this? You think I’ll let you ruin yourself again?”
Greyson snaps, “That’s enough, Andy.”
Andy rounds on him, face growing redder by the second. “You don’t get to speak to me. You think I don’t see you three circling her? Dragging her down with you?”
Drew’s parents divide perfectly: Mary looks full of love and apology, stroking Drew’s wet cheeks, and Andy full of fire and control, ready to bulldoze everything she wants for herself.
No wonder Drew learned to run—it was the only way to breathe.
Andy won’t stop, though. “You’ve embarrassed us all, Drew. This family deserves better.”
I can’t keep my quiet anymore. “She is better. Better than any of us. And she doesn’t need your permission to live her life.”
The words burn on the way out, too loud, too raw—but I mean every damn one of them.
Drew looks at me like she can finally breathe. I want to reach for her, hold onto her and let her feel her feelings like I always have.
Mary lets go of her and turns to stand in her husband’s way, hands on her hips and that same fire I’ve seen in Drew making her stand taller.
Her calm defiance slices sharper than Andy’s shouting.
“Stop it. Drew isn’t being dragged anywhere. She’s standing. She’s choosing. She’s stronger than you ever give her credit for.”
Andy’s face mottles redder. “Strong? She’s reckless. She’s making a spectacle of herself, and you’re encouraging it.”
“Andy, stop. You’re not protecting her. She’s happy. Can’t you see that? You’re so afraid of people talking that you can’t see your daughter standing right in front of you.”
“I’m trying to save her from ruining her life again.”
Adam steps forward. He’s all iron, no hesitation. His height and width seems to send the message Andy so clearly needs to receive. He’s not the one in control here.
“No. We’re standing beside her because she’s worth it. You don’t get to belittle her anymore—not here, not in front of us, and not in front of this town. She’s not your possession. She’s our partner.”
The silence after that is heavy, Andy puffing like he’s about to explode. “You’re not the daughter I raised.”
The air in the room goes thin, sharp in my lungs. That line—God, I know how deep it’ll cut her.
Drew shutters, it’s a hard blow, but she stands firm like her mother—the perfect mirror of who she might have been if she stayed. “No. I’m not. And that’s a good thing.”
Pride swells hot in my chest, chasing off the ache. That’s my girl.
Mary’s smile blooms, although small, and she lays a hand on Drew’s cheek, voice trembling with love. “Don’t listen to him. You’re my girl. Always. And I’m proud of you.”
Drew’s chin wobbles, her eyes glassy, but she squares her shoulders anyway.
Daisy strides into the room, closes the door loudly behind her, and crosses her arms, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “There’s no running them out of town this time, Dad. You tried that once, and look where it got you. Drew’s not your princess anymore.”