Chapter 84

Chapter 84
“Father?” My brothers echoed the words that couldn’t leave my mouth. I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to make sense of the figures standing in front of me.

But there he was, his posture still as commanding as ever; my eyes trailed to his side, and as usual, his hands were tightly clasped around my mother. My gaze shifted to the entourage behind them, each holding some sort of travel bag of different sizes that no doubt belonged to my mother—at least 80%.

I found myself tensing as he got near, Dylan and Ryan both forgotten. I had gotten so used to ruling without my parents breathing down my neck, and the months they had been away were the best, but they were here now, and I had no idea what to do.

I studied them closely, their tanned skin from all the times we had spent in the sun. My mother was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, my father a cap, both of them wearing black two-piece—I think this is the first time I was seeing my father’s legs.

The little fat in their cheeks was a sign of a holiday well spent. I let my eyes travel back to their joined hands, and a small smile touched my lips. They looked good together—as always. 

My father treated her like a queen, and she carried herself like one. For a moment, I let myself admire their love, willing to give anything to experience such a bond. I wasn’t jealous, though; I have just come to realize that not everyone will have what they want, and that is actually okay.

My brothers rushed to their sides, attempting to hug them despite their occupied hands. I content myself with watching from the sidelines as they reunited. And again, I didn’t feel a trace of jealousy.

Was I really becoming a better person?

I waited until they had exchanged pleasantries, although every now and then, their eyes would dart to me, and if I knew better, I would have sworn they were urging me to join in the joy, but I stayed rooted in my spot.

"Welcome back, parents," I said, remaining in my spot. The words made them cringe—and when I heard myself, I cringed too, my lips curling in a frown. The words felt so impersonal and cold, but there was no taking it back.

“It is good to be back home.” My mother sighed, slowly nodding her head as she took in her environment. “Thank you; we will take it from here.” She said to the people that have helped her with her luggage, and they bowed their heads to everyone around before filing away.

“Tell me, you guys brought a souvenir; else you will have to go back to where you are coming from.” Dylan grumbled, and sometimes I forget he was the youngest. 

My mother chuckled, running her hands through his hair. “Of course, we brought something for all of you, and I am sure you will all love it.”

“What are you holding in your hand?” My father asked, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the cake Dylan was holding. “‘He missed out on how awesome you are,’” my father read aloud, his brows furrowing deeply. His gaze shifted to me, and he stared at me with raised brows. “What is going on here? Isn’t that young man Maddie’s mate?”

Shit.

This was one thing I was going to hide from my parents probably till eternity, but my siblings have publicized the idea with their, albeit good, gesture, and knowing my father, he would capitalize on it.

“It is nothing, Father.”

“Maddie’s mate rejected her.” Dylan injected with his big mouth that has no filter.

“What??” At this point, I wasn’t sure who echoed that between me and my parents.

“I know, I know, we would have gone on a rampage and bloodbath, but Maddie is determined to protect him, and there is nothing we can do about it, hence the cake.” He held the cake out for them to see, and that did it.

“Dylan!” I yelled, unable to keep my cool anymore. Did they not understand that it was private? I shouldn’t have told them anything.

“Sorry, sis, but they had to know.” He shrugged his shoulders like he did not just dig his own grave. “Maybe they can convince you that he is in need of a good beating.”

“Dylan, that is enough!” It was my mother that came to my rescue this time, and I blinked slowly, refusing to wrap my head around the fact that she had just come to my rescue.

“What did he do?” My father asked, and I was taken aback at the care in his voice. Too many things were just happening because I think I am going crazy. My father actually asked what he did and not what I did wrong.

Maybe this trip has messed with his head more than I think.

“It is fine, father. You don’t have to worry yourself about it just because someone doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.” I made sure to glare at my brother so he would know I was referring to him, and I felt a surge of happiness when he shifted backwards in fear.

“Of course not!” My father refuted. “Someone hurt my daughter, and there is no way I am going to let it go.”

Um, excuse me. Are you sure this man right here is my father?

"Father, I appreciate your concern, but this is my burden to bear. I have made peace with his decision, and I need you to respect that."

He frowned, his brows knitting together in frustration. “Respect it? Maddie, someone hurt you, and I—” 

“Father,” I interrupted gently but firmly, “it’s not your battle to fight. I have already fought it, and I am still standing.” His gaze softened, and for a moment I saw something unfamiliar in his eyes—remorse. 

“Alright.” He released a sigh. “We can forget about maiming him, but I deserve to know what happened.” I opened my mouth for a protest, but he beat me to it. “In my room.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but I suddenly found myself in my parents' room, seated on one of their very expensive sofas alongside my siblings. It was amusing to see the way they all looked at me as they waited for me to speak. 

The room was as grand as ever, with drapes that gave it an elegant golden glow, and a faint scent of lavender filled the air. I made it a point to have the staff clean it weekly, even during their absence, ensuring it remained pristine for their return.

“Now, what did he do to you?” I released a short breath before I began to narrate what had happened—a much abridged version than I told the twin—and maybe tried to paint Toby a little bit better.

It would do me no good if my dad began a hunt party for him.

“I am so sorry you are going through this, Maddie,” my father began, his voice unusually soft, almost hesitant. “You don’t deserve any of this pain.” He exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as if burdened by the weight of his own words. "And... I owe you an apology. This holiday gave me the time to reflect, and I see now how unfair I have been to you over the years.”

He paused, looking at me with eyes full of regret. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not after everything. But I am asking for it anyway.”

I blinked, stunned by the words I had just heard. This wasn’t the man I remembered. The father I knew rarely admitted he was wrong, let alone apologized. Had time and distance truly changed him?

A part of me wanted to hold on to the resentment, memories of how cruel he had been to me flooding my mind, but another part—the part that still longed for his approval—was breaking.

Forgiving him wasn’t just for his sake—it was for mine, too. Maybe this was the start of something new.

“I forgive you.”