The Jumbotron cut to our suite, showing the moment in real-time—me frozen, hand over my mouth, tears already falling. Dad standing there with his arms open. The whole arena was watching our reunion.
But I didn’t care about the cameras. Didn’t care about the thousands of eyes on us.
I only cared about the man in front of me.
“Hey, baby girl,” he said, holding his arms out. I felt like a little kid rushing into his arms.
“This is not real,” I whispered. I pulled back, touching his face, his shoulder, and grabbing his hand.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pulling me back into his embrace. “For all of it. I should’ve come sooner.”
My vision blurred, and my hand covered my mouth before the tears slipped. “How—”
I couldn’t even finish my sentence. My body already knew the answer before my mind caught up.
There was only one person who would do something like this for me. There was only one man who moved with this type devotion, quietly, without needing credit or applause. And of course, he wasn’t standing in the doorway with his arms folded, like‘Look what I did.’
DaVinci didn’t even stay in the suite to witness the moment.
He refused to make it about him.
He did this for me, then stepped back into the shadows like it was nothing.
My vision blurred.
My father… My father was here.
He’d aged. More gray in his beard. A little more weight in his eyes. Time had held him harder than he held himself. But he was here in Silverrun. In the one city he hadn’t set foot in since losing my mother. The place he’d avoided because it hurt too much.
“DaVinci,” I whispered, voice cracking around his name.
Dad rubbed his thumb across my shoulder like he used to when I was small. “He called me a few days ago,” he said, voice thick. “And told me ifI didn’t get on a plane and come see my daughter, he’d come to Coupeville himself and drag me here.”
A laugh slipped through my tears. “He would’ve too.”
“I know.” Dad shook his head, smiling for what felt like the first time in years.
I grabbed his hand, barely aware of Tess ushering everyone else to the other side of the suite to give us space.
“Let's step out,” I whispered, pulling him toward the door. We stepped into the private hallway, the same one Langston had led me through earlier, and thankfully, it was just us. No noise. No eyes. Just father and daughter, and three years of absence we needed to make up for.
“I can’t believe you are here. Why are you here?”
“Because I can’t continue to let you down and call myself your father, let alone a man. Being here hurts, but watching you grow and thrive from afar hurts way worse.”
“I missed you so much,” I said, hugging him again. I’d been mad at him, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to do that now. He came. He was here.
“Halo, I was running from my own pain, okay? It was never about you not being important to me or deserving. I let my grief and guilt swallow me up, and I left you to hold yours alone. You deserved more than that. You deserved your father. And I’m sorry.”
“Daddy, I forgive you. I’m just happy you’re here. Happy you came. How are you feeling?”
He smiled at me, “Just like her, she never could stay mad long. Lala blessed me with you thirty-one years ago. I’m not honoring that. I need to honor that. How I feel is not important.”
“I miss her too, Daddy. Every day.”
“I see your mother everywhere. Lalima loved this place.” He sighed. “She loved you so much. I mean, crazy about you. She’d be disappointed in me.”
I gasped and covered my mouth, hearing him say my mother’s name was foreign to my ears.
