How do you sit across from the man who saved you, raised you, took you in when you were nothing but a half-starved, broken kid, and made you part of his family—and tell him you’re sleeping with his daughter? How do you look him in the eye and tell him that the girl he’s spent her whole life protecting is now yours, that you’ve already had her in ways he never wanted to imagine? There was no right way to do this. But I had to.

I owed it to Beverly, owed it to myself, owed it to the years of waiting and wanting and pushing her away only to come back to her every time. I had to do the right thing by her, even if it meant losing the respect of the only father I had.

Maybe it made me a coward, picking Jamal’s diner as the place to confess. A public setting meant he couldn’t yell too loud—or worse, shoot me in the face. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.

At the very least, it gave me an escape route if he tried.

Across from me, Dad stirred his coffee, his eyes sharp with awareness. He knew something was off. I hadn’t touched my food. I had been pushing my eggs around my plate with my fork for the last ten minutes, my mind spiraling into numbers and calculations that wouldn’t do shit to help me now.

He finally sighed and set his cup down. “You’re nervous. What’s going on, Blake?”

I couldn’t seem to find the words.

My knee bounced under the table as I stabbed at my eggs, pretending they were suddenly fascinating.

“Is this about school?” he asked. “I know Stanford’s a big step, but⁠—”

“No,” I cut in. “It’s not about that.”

“Well, whatever it is, son, you can tell me.” He smiled warmly, and for a second, I felt sick.

Because he trusted me.

And I was about to ruin it.

“We’ll be terribly lonely without you,” he added when I didn’t respond. “I don’t know what your sister will do with the house to herself when you leave.”

I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry. My heartbeat pounded in my ears like a slow, deafening drum.

Just say it. Rip the bandaid off. “I-I love her, Dad.”

He chuckled lightly. “I know that. You both grew up together, inseparable. She’ll have no one to torment.”

I sighed, shaking my head. He didn’t get it.

“No, Dad,” I clarified, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I’m in love with Beverly.”

The words sat between us like a grenade with the pin pulled. His hand froze mid-air, and the small, easy smile vanished from his face, replaced by something colder.

“I tried not to,” I hurried to explain, my voice a little strained. “But⁠—”