Page 96 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

“Dad, I will literally pay you to never say that word again,” she pleaded. “Name your price. I’m serious.”

Colin cleared his throat, face still a worrying shade of purple, but he looked a little more with it, less in danger of passing out. “For the record, if anyone’s defiling anyone, it’s definitely Truly.”

A laugh erupted from Dad. “You’re honest, kid. Got to give you that.” He took a hearty sip from his glass. “Speaking of honesty and since you and Truly are so close”—in his continuing effort to embarrass the hell out of her, Dad waggled his brows—“were you aware of our darling daughter’s devious ploy to get her mother and me together?”

“Stanley—”

“It’s not much of a secret, Diane.” Dad polished off his cordial glass of nocino and Truly’s gut clenched. Dad wasn’t a big drinker; not quite a teetotaler, but he was usually a one glass of wine and call it quits guy. This stuff was strong. Forty percent ABV strong. And Dad was on his second pour. “Colin, in case you weren’t aware, Diane and I are separated.”

Mom’s expression went pinched as she stared out at the lake. “Do you really think this is appropriate, Stanley?”

“He’s a divorce attorney. I’d say he’s qualified to hear this.” He looked at Colin. “You are, right?”

“Family lawyer, technically, but yes, sir.”

“Sir.” Dad snorted. “I think considering the number of love bites on my daughter’s neck, you can call me Stan, kid.”

“Got it.” The sweetest blush crept up Colin’s neck. “Stan.”

“So were you? Aware of Truly’s mad scheme?”

Colin looked at her and all she could do was shrug. No point in lying now.

“I, uh, Truly cares about you both,” he said, his careful diplomacy reminding her that his job required he be just as gifted with words as she was. “Anyone who knows her knows she would do anything if it meant making you happy.”

“That is a generous interpretation of our daughter’s motivations,” Mom murmured.

Truly scowled down at the table, too tired to argue, far from in the mood to defend herself to someone who seemed hell-bent on reading the worst into her actions.

Colin leaned his forearms against the table. “Diane, I think you raised a brilliant daughter who sticks by her principles, principles I’d be willing to bet every cent I have that you instilled in her. Is she stubborn? Yeah. She’s headstrong and it’s a little infuriating, yeah?”

Mom chuckled a little less darkly. “That’s one word for it.”

Colin grinned. “You raised a real firecracker. Hell, Truly doesn’t let me get away with shit, you know? Sorry,” he said, sounding less than remorseful. “I shouldn’t swear.”

Mom threw her head back and laughed. “Truly’s first curse word was—God, I shouldn’t say. It’s embarrassing.”

“It was fuck,” Dad said in a faux whisper. “Two guesses who she learned it from and it wasn’t me.”

Mom smacked his shoulder. “Stan.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dad recited, laughing. “Said in the most adorable little voice from her car seat.”

Mom buried her face in her hands. “That asshole wouldn’t let me merge!”

“Sure, honey.” Dad laughed. “You tell yourself that.”

Mom harrumphed.

Colin chuckled. “Then you know that when Truly makes her mind up about something... Godspeed if you disagree.”

Dad laughed. “Godspeed, indeed.”

Mom cracked a smile and Truly couldn’t find it in her to be sore when Colin reached across the table and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Maybe you disagree with her methods, and you know what? That’s fair,” he said, gripping her hand. “But Truly loves you. Truly... God, she admires you. It’s not my business; I don’t know you and I know you don’t know me. But I care about your daughter, and it’s so obvious she cares about you. Your daughter, she has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by her.”

Truly’s heart beat loud inside her head, a near violent lubdub lubdub that drowned out everything else. All her fears, her what ifs silenced by the surety of Colin’s words.

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