Page 69 of Below the Barrel

I let out a small laugh, but it’s forced. “Yeah, that was weird,” I mumble, more to myself than to her. My mind is still replaying the awkward standoff between my dad and Koa, trying to make sense of it.

Victoria straightens up and glances over at me, as if she’s been waiting for me to ask something.

“So, uh, how’d you meet my dad?”

She smiles like she’s got the best story in the world. “Oh my gosh, I thought you’d never ask. It’s kind of funny. I was on a horrible date at this fancy restaurant with some guy in finance, he was cute and all, but boring as hell, and then I spotted your dad sitting at the bar, looking all broody and mysterious. I thought ‘there’s a problem I can fix,’ so I ditched my date and went over to him. We hit it off right away, like literally, he moved me in with him that very night. Haven’t been apart since.”

I blink at her, waiting for the funny part of the story, but it never comes so I nod. The first thought that pops into my head isgold digger. The words just sit there, hanging heavy in my mind, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Right.”

Victoria doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy looking out at the ocean like we’re in some cheesy romance movie. “He’s got this…powerful presence, doesn’t he? Hard not to fall for that.”

My stomach twists at her words, and suddenly, I can’t stand being out here anymore. “You know what?” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “I’m not really feeling the beach right now. I think I’m going to head back inside.”

Victoria looks at me surprised, but then waves it off like it’s nothing. “Okay, no problem. I’ll be in soon. Just want to walk off that meal,” she says, stretching her arms above her head again, her underwear basically on full display.

The meal you barely ate, I think but don’t say.

Instead, I just nod and turn back towards the house, quickening my pace. Being here, with her, withthem—it doesn’t feel like home. It feels like I’m a stranger in my own dad’s life.

TWENTY-SEVEN

KOA | PENICHE, PORTUGAL

I watchas Malia’s dad stands from the table, walking over to his bar with deliberate, heavy steps. He pours himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal tumbler, but he doesn’t bother offering me any—not that I’d take it if he did. His grip on the glass tightens as he brings it to his lips, the tension clear in his posture.

“I was surprised to find out you’d be joining my daughter on tour for a year. I was certain you’d left the team after you broke up with her.” His words are sharp, but the anger in his eyes is what cuts deepest. It’s like he’s holding back an explosion, just barely.

I keep my face blank, refusing to let him see that his words are getting to me. “I’m not sure what gave you that impression,” I say, standing from my seat and moving casually around the room. I pretend to admire the décor, my hands sliding into my pockets, trying to project confidence. I won’t let him intimidate me, even if this situation makes my blood boil.

“Well,” he starts, his voice thick with disdain, “I just figured you wouldn’t be stupid enough to stay on the team after breaking my little girl’s heart.” He sneers, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking another sip. “Not that you were ever good enoughto be on that team anyway. You’re just Gabriel’s charity case, his little scholarship project.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the urge to react. It’s the same thing he said the last time we met in person, and just hearing it again makes my muscles tense. But I won’t give him that power over me.

“You know,” I say, finally turning to face him, my eyes locking on his, “you said the same thing before. ‘Gabriel’s charity case.’ Surely, you can’t still think that’s true, not after all I’ve done to prove I deserve my spot on this tour and on the team.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as if I’ve said something ridiculous. He walks back to the bar, pouring himself a second glass without a word, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of doubt in my mind.

Did Gabriel pull strings for me? Did he do more than I realize?

No. I earned this. I earned my place.

“I earned my spot on this tour,” I say firmly, my voice steady. “And I prove that every time I go out there and compete. So I don’t understand—what exactly is your issue with me?”

He swings around, his eyes blazing, finger pointed directly at me as he stomps closer. “My issueisyou!” he shouts, the words echoing through the room. “You’re a nobody, from some poor island with a poor family, and you think you can just come in here on your scholarship andbrainwashmy only daughter into being with you?”

I stand my ground, keeping my voice level. “I didn’t brainwash her.”

He laughs, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “Oh, you absolutely have. I told you the last time we met, when you came to me with thatuglyandcheapengagement ring, asking for my blessing—myblessing—to marry her, that you weren’t good enough. And guess what? You listened. You broke up with her, just like I knewyou would. And I swear, I believed in God that day. My prayers were answered.”

I grit my teeth, my chest tightening as his words hit a nerve. He’s right, in a way—I did break up with her. I let myself believe he was right. That I wasn’t good enough for her. But now? Now I see through him, and I see the fear behind his anger. He’s scared of losing control.

“And yet,” he continues, his voice dripping with disgust, “here you are, slithering your way back into her life, showing up atmydoor with the audacity to think you still have a chance with her?” He steps closer, his finger nearly jabbing into my chest. “You’ll never be good enough for her. You’ll never be anything but the island boy who doesn’t know his place.”

The urge to hit him is almost overwhelming, but I won’t. I won’t stoop to his level. Instead, I take a deep breath, looking him dead in the eyes, refusing to flinch, when something behind him catches my eye. I look over his shoulder, and my heart sinks. Maliah is standing there, her face frozen in heartbreak as she stares at me, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal.

“Is that true?” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but her gaze never leaves mine. “Were you planning to propose to me?”

---