Page 43 of The One Who Risked it All

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her face. “They make it easy,” she said softly. “They don’t care about old feuds or family drama. They just... love.”

In that moment, I saw past the tough exterior Carla usually presented to the world. I saw the woman who cared deeply, who wanted a family of her own someday. And I realized, with a clarity that scared me a little, that I wanted to be that family.

“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice a little rough, “we could learn a thing or two from them, huh?”

Carla nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. There was understanding there, and something more.

Dad’s chair scraped horribly against the floor as he shoved away from the table, jolting me from the moment. His back was all I could see as he stormed into the kitchen.

Silence descended on the room, even the kids feeling the weight of his disapproval. A surge of determination rose within me. I couldn’t keep ignoring the elephant in the room – this feud that had torn our families apart for so long. Watching Carla interact with my nephews, seeing the warmth in her eyes and the easy way she fit into our chaotic family dynamic, I knew I had to do something.

“Dad,” I called out, my heart racing as I stacked plates and followed him into the kitchen. “Don’t be like this. Can’t you just try to see Carla the way I do?” The silence that followed was deafening. I could practically hear my dad’s jaw clenching from across the room. He pushed past me and back into the dining room. Stubborn as ever, I followed him, pleading my case.

“I told you to stay away from that family,” he finally snapped at me.

“For crying out loud, Dad!” I exploded, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t the Capulets and the Montagues! We’re talking about Carla, not some faceless enemy.”

Dad’s laugh was bitter. “You think that makes it better? That woman’s grandfather—“

“Her grandfather, Dad. Not her.” I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated. “Carla’s one of the kindest people I know. She volunteers at the animal shelter, tutors kids for free. She bakes cookies for your grandkids, for crying out loud!”

“Don’t you dare try to use those boys to justify this... this madness,” Dad growled. “You know how I feel.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I do. But, Dad, Carla’s not her family. She’s just... Carla. And I...” I swallowed hard, realizing I was about to say something I’d never said aloud before. “I think I might love her.”

His jaw clenched as he delivered the blow I’d been dreading. “You think you’re in love? You don’t know the first thing about commitment. You’re just chasing another thrill, like always. When are you going to grow up and stop embarrassing this family?”

His words hit me like a sucker punch, stealing the air from my lungs. My face flushed with anger and shame. My fists clenched at my sides as I fought to keep my voice steady. “That’s not fair, Dad. You have no idea how hard I’ve worked to—“

“All you’ve done is undermine, disrespect me, and disappoint me.”

I reared back as though I’d been slapped. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Dad.” Judging by the pain in my chest, sarcasm sucked as a shield, but it was the only one I had.

Dad’s eyes widened, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might start yelling again. But then his shoulders sagged, and he let outa long, shaky breath. I watched as my father’s gaze drifted to the window, his eyes glazing over with memories I couldn’t see. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, too warm.

“What happened between Grandpa and Kenny Putnam, Dad?” I asked softly. “There’s got to be more to this feud than just a business disagreement.”

Dad’s jaw clenched, and I saw a flicker of something raw and painful cross his face. “That man...” he started, then shook his head. “We were friends once, you know. Best friends. And then his...” His voice cracked, and I felt my chest tighten.

“Dad, you don’t have to—“

“No, you need to understand,” he insisted, meeting my eyes with an intensity that made me want to look away. “We were best friends. But sometimes things happen that can never be undone.”

I leaned back on my heels, processing this new information. “But, Dad, whatever happened was decades ago. Carla had nothing to do with—“

“You sound just like your mother,” he muttered.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Look, I get that you’re worried. But I’m not a kid anymore. I know what I feel for Carla is real.” I stood up, pacing the small kitchen. “She makes me want to be better, you know? Not just as a firefighter, but as a person.”

Dad scoffed walking back through to the dining room, but I pressed on, following him. “I know you’ve got your reasons for hating the Putnams. But Carla’s different. She’s kind and smart and she challenges me in ways no one else ever has.” I turned to face him, my heart pounding. “I’m not asking for your blessing, Dad. But I am asking you to try to understand.”

My father stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re stubborn as a bull, you know that?”

I couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Gee, I wonder where I got that from…”

Dad’s eyes narrowed predictably, like they did every time my mouthy comebacks slipped out.

I kept talking. No one ever said I knew when to fold ‘em. “It’s been years. Don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet?”

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