I stepped inside without answering. The smell of home hit me hard, but it wasn’t a comfort.
My dad stood in the living room, arms folded, posture rigid like he was bracing for impact. The room smelled like lemon cleaner and something baked earlier that morning. It made my stomach twist. Normalcy felt obscene right now.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“We agree,” my father replied, voice calm in that way that always meant he thought he was right.
That did it.
“You went after her,” I said, the words coming out low and sharp. “You waited until I was gone, and youwent after her.”
My mother’s face tightened. “We spoke to her, yes. We had concerns?—”
“You threatened her,” I snapped, stepping forward. “You showed up at her workplace. You served her papers. You scared her so badly she left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye to a kid who loves her.”
My voice broke on that last word, and I hated that it did, hated that they got to see it. They knew she was my best friend in college. They knew I cared about her.
“She had no right to be that involved,” my father said evenly. “She’s not even family.”
I laughed once, sharp and humorless. “That’s funny. BecauseMiles calls her family. He asked me this morning why she didn’t say goodbye. Do you want to know what I told him?”
Neither of them spoke.
“I lied,” I said. “I lied to a five-year-old who already lost his mother because you decided control mattered more than his fucking feelings.”
My mother reached for the back of the chair like she needed something solid. “We are trying to protect him.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re trying to replace Nat.”
The room went dead silent.
“That’s not fair,” my father said immediately.
“It’s exactly fair,” I shot back. “You didn’t listen to her when she was alive, either. You didn’t respect her choices then, and you don’t get to rewrite that now that she’s gone. You always judged her. You hated the fact she didn’t tell you who the father was. You hated the fact she was a bartender. You hated the fact she didn’t do what you said.”
My chest felt too tight, like my lungs couldn’t quite expand all the way. I dragged a hand over my face, pressing my fingers into my eyes. God, I missed her. This wasn’t fair, but for the first time since she died, I knew this was a fight worth having. I knew it deep in my bones that I’d pick Miles over them for the rest of my life.
“She chose me,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She chose me because she knew I’d love him the way she did. Not conditionally. Not when it was convenient. All the time.”
My dad’s jaw flexed. “We’re his grandparents.”
“And that matters,” I said. “But it doesn’t outrank what she wanted. And it sure as hell doesn’t give you permission to hurt people who are good to him.”
My mother’s eyes filled. “Emily is not right to be around him.”
I laughed again, this time full and bitter. “She built a business in a week that half your friends couldn’t manage in a year. She shows up every single day for Miles. She puts him first even when it costs her. You know what that’s called?”
Neither of them answered.
“Love,” I said. “Real love. The kind you don’t seem to recognize unless it looks like obedience.”
My father stepped closer. “Watch your tone.”
“No,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “You don’t get to police my tone when you tried to ripmyfamily apart.”
That word—family—hung between us, heavy and undeniable.
“I will not forgive this,” I continued, my hands shaking now. “Not the spying. Not the intimidation. Not the way you used my grief like a weapon. And if you ever show up near Em or Miles again without my permission, I will make sure the court knows exactly why Nat didn’t choose you. Because we all know why she didn’t. You’re controlling and selfish.”
