Page 39 of The Single Dad Grump Next Door

In truth, Gabe didn’t have to cook anything. It was Wren who strong-armed all of us into this. He could have ordered from a local restaurant and served us something that required no effort on his part.

Wren claps her hands in delight as Gabe and Andy join us at the table, and even Karina looks impressed by the food.

“This looks incredible, Gabe,” Karina says, shooting me a pointed look.

I nod, swallowing my pride. I want to bark at her,Whose side are you on?Instead, I force myself to say, “It really does.”

“Thanks,” Gabe mutters, taking his seat at the head of the table. He looks at Wren. “Do you want to say grace?”

Grace? I didn’t know Gabe was so formal. Or devoted to anything other than his own ego.

Wren shakes her head. “You do it, Daddy.”

He nods and bows his head, his voice low and steady as he gives thanks for the meal. I keep my eyes open, watching the way Wren folds her hands and peeks at her dad with a mix of mischief and reverence.

When he finishes, everyone digs in.

Conversation flows easily, thanks to Wren and Karina. Andy also helps to chime in, filling in the gaps when they’re too busy chewing. They bounce from topic to topic, covering everything from summer camp adventures to wedding planning. Gabe offers his own remarks occasionally, but his focus is mostly on making sure Wren eats her vegetables.

I stay quiet, content to listen.

It’s strange, sitting here like this, surrounded by warmth and laughter. For a moment, I forget about the throbbing in my wrists, the uncertainty of my future, and the tension that’s always simmered between me and Gabe.

Dinnertime was never like this at my family’s house. Conversations, if they even happened, centered around my father’s career with the university orchestra or my future career as a violinist following in his footsteps. There was no lighthearted chatter. No good-natured bickering about not liking the glazed carrots.

“Alina, were you really the best violinist at your school?” Wren asks suddenly, her eyes wide with curiosity.

The question catches me off guard. I glance at Gabe, half-expecting him to roll his eyes or make a snide comment, but he just looks at me, waiting. I don’t know what to think about the fact that he discussed me with Wren while I wasn’t there. How often do I come up in conversation?

“I don’t know about the best,” I say carefully. “But I worked really hard.”

Karina snorts quietly, and then does her best to disguise it as a cough.

“Daddy says you were his competition,” Wren says matter-of-factly.

“Wren,” Gabe says warningly, but she ignores him.

“Did you ever beat him?”

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “Once or twice.”

Once, definitely, when it mattered most.

“More than that,” Gabe mutters under his breath, and I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused. He clearly doesn’t want to show strong negative emotions in front of his daughter.

“Wow,” Wren says, looking at me like I’ve just told her I can fly. “That’s so cool. I want to be good at something like that.”

“You will be,” Gabe says, his voice softening. “And you’re already good at so many things.”

Her face lights up, and the pride in his eyes is undeniable.

It hits me then, like a tidal wave. Gabe Sterling really isn’t the villain I’ve made him out to be. He’s a father who loves his daughter fiercely. A man who has managed to build a life full of love and laughter despite everything he’s suffered.

More than that, I think he might be a better person than me. A stronger person, at least. I’m facing the first true difficulty in my life, a small issue among so many other privileges, and I’m letting it drag me down into the depths of self-pity. Meanwhile, Gabe is awidowerand he still manages to keep a brave face.

I might be the better violinist, but he’s the better human.

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