Page 117 of Have Your Heart Again


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"Fine. It’s a sign advertising our new partnership," I add, closing the distance between us and snatching it out of his hand. "One you had no right to remove since it wasn't on your property."

"Do you think this is a joke?" my father questions, fury raging through every feature.

"You're going to need to be a little more specific. My marriage, our new business venture?—"

"Arora Heritage," he vehemently cuts me off. "You went behind my back, married a Hale, and now this. You had no right."

"No right? Do you hear yourself? Your family is my family too. Just because you cut them out of your life doesn't mean I need to do the same."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. No idea why I kept you away from them."

"You're right, because you refuse to let me in. Maybe you don't want family, but I do. I always have."

"I'm your family," he grinds out.

"Only when it's convenient for you." The words taste bitter, but they've never felt more true. "Only when I do exactly what you want."

His jaw works. "This ends now. You're acting like a child throwing a tantrum. You want to talk? Fine. Come home, and we'll talk."

"I tried talking." My voice rises. "I tried for years, and instead of letting me in, you buried me in work. Kept me so busy I wouldn't ask questions."

"Asha." He steps closer, and I can see he looks tired. "I am your father. I've provided for you, protected you, your entire life. Everything I've done?—"

"Has been behind a wall. You won't let me in. You won't tell me anything real."

"You have no idea what you’re talking about," he says, his hands falling to his hips.

"Then tell me!" I shout as tears threaten to steal my strength. I don't want to fight with him. I just want my dad. "That's all I've ever wanted. Just tell me. Tell me something that isn't a deflection, or an excuse, or another closed door." My hands are shaking. I clench them into fists. "I'm your daughter. I deserve to know you. Not just the version of you that shows up with instructions and expectations. The real you."

His face hardens. "Some things are better left in the past."

"For who? You? Because keeping me in the dark hasn't protected me. It's just made me feel like I don't matter enough to trust."

"That's not..." He stops, looks away. "It's not that simple."

"It could be." My voice cracks. "It could be if you'd just let it."

Gravel crunches as the marketing team's vehicles pull up behind us. My father's eyes flick toward the vehicles, and he visibly pulls in a deep breath.

"Get in the truck, Asha. I'm not doing this here."

"We're not doing it anywhere. That's the problem." I take a step back. "Every time I get close to something real with you, you shut down. Change the subject. Send me on another errand."

His jaw sets as his eyes flick back to the cars. He pulls himself up straighter, tension locking every muscle in his body. I've seen my father face down business rivals, navigate crises, and handle impossible situations, but I've never seen him look uncomfortable. Not like this.

"Hey, are you guys ready?" Sydney walks up to us and stands beside Hollis, completely unaware of the hot mess she just stumbled upon.

"I didn't know you were coming for this." Hollis grins as she wraps her arm through his.

"I wasn't, but I saw the van pulled over on the side of the road and noticed the signs were missing." She shrugs. "So I figured I'd show them to the barn."

I turn to glare at my father, whose eyes aren't on me but Sydney and Hollis.

"Stop sabotaging my life because you don't like my choices. You need to leave. I have work to do, and you're not welcome here."

"Asha, that's a little harsh," Sydney says, her tone less gentle than it has been.

"No, it's perfectly fitting. I'm done waiting for him to trust me. Done being shut out of his life while he tries to control mine."