"YES," I blurt before I can stop myself. "I— I mean... yes, sir. Absolutely. One hundred percent."
Caroline kicks my shin under the table, horrified.
My mom laughs.
Esther laughs harder.
Franklin nods slowly, like he's evaluating a horse he might buy.
"My daughter," he says, voice softening but still very much indad interrogation mode,"is precious to us. The most precious thing in this house."
I nod vigorously. "She's precious to me too."
"Good," he says. "Because if you ever— and I mean ever —break her heart...I havefriendseverywhere who owe me favors."
"DAD!" Caroline yelps.
"I'm kidding," he says.
He is not kidding.
Every cell in his face says he is not kidding.
I swallow. "Understood, sir."
He leans back, expression easing just a little. "But I will also say this... I've watched you both grow up together. You always looked out for her."
I feel something loosen in my chest.
"And I can see the way she looks at you. And the wayyoulook ather.Like she's the center of gravity in your world."
Caroline's cheeks turn scarlet.
I glance at her, unable to help the soft smile tugging at my mouth.
"She is," I say quietly.
Franklin's eyes soften fully then — the intimidating dad aura melting into something warm and proud.
"Then," he says, finally lifting his wine glass again, "you have my blessing. Just don't make me regret it."
"Thank you, sir. I promise you won't regret it."
I exhale so hard the table probably shakes.
Franklin finally cracks a grin and pats my shoulder. "Relax, son. You're doing fine."
Caroline leans over and mutters, "I'm so sorry."
I whisper back, "It's okay. Pretty sure I lost five years of my life but... it's fine."
Her dad raises his glass.
"To family," he says warmly.
We all lift ours.
Everyone's still talking around the table—laughing, passing dishes, clinking glasses—but something feels... off.
