Page 70 of Below the Barrel

Her father spins around at the sound of her voice, his eyes wide with shock, and in his haste, he drops the glass in his hand. It shatters against the floor, pieces scattering everywhere. “Maliah, my darling, I didn’t realize you came back so soon. Where’s Victoria?” His voice is suddenly soft, placating, but she doesn’t even look at him. Her eyes are locked on mine, burning through me.

“Is it true?” she repeats, her voice firmer this time, more demanding.

I can’t move, can’t breathe. This isn’t how I wanted her to find out. I wanted to protect her from the truth, but now that it’sout, there’s nowhere to hide. I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “Yes,” I finally say, my voice tight.

Her expression falters for a split second, like I’ve hit her with something too heavy to bear. But then, she squares her shoulders, her anger rising. “But instead of proposing to me, you broke up with me because of what my father said?”

I see her dad shifting uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between the two of us, his mouth twitching as if he’s unsure whether he should step in or stay silent.

“I broke up with you because I believed you deserve someone better,” I say, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.

Maliah’s lips tremble, and for a moment, I think she might cry, but then her expression hardens. “So I had no say in it?” Her voice cracks, shaking with the weight of her rage. “You both made that decision for me? Decided who I should and shouldn’t end up with?” She looks between me and her father, her eyes burning with betrayal.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come. What can I even say? She’s right. We took that choice away from her. Her father manipulated me, and I let him, because I thought I was doing what was best for her. But all I’ve done is hurt her.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” Maliah whispers, her voice trembling as her gaze falls to the floor, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. The crack in her voice is like a knife to the chest, cutting deeper than I thought possible.

“I never stopped loving you, Maliah,” I whisper back, my heart breaking with every word. “I told you, you’ve always been the one for me.”

She shakes her head slowly, the first tear slipping down her cheek. Then another. And another. “Do you know what it’s like to hear the person you want to spend the rest of your life with say they don’t love you anymore?” Her voice cracks, and she doesn’t look at me, her pain too raw.

I feel like the worst kind of asshole, and I don’t even care that her father is standing right there, watching all of this unfold. The guilt is so heavy it nearly crushes me. Without thinking, I take quick strides towards her, closing the distance between us in seconds. I wrap my arms around her shaking body, pulling her tightly against me, holding her like she might slip away if I let go.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” I murmur into her hair, my voice barely holding steady. “I know that no matter how much I apologize, it will never make it okay, but I’m so fucking sorry. If I could take it all back, I would. I couldn’t even face you after I said those words—my heart was breaking, too.”

She trembles in my arms, her breathing hitching as she cries softly against my chest. The sound of her tears is like salt in an open wound, and I squeeze her tighter, wishing I could erase every ounce of pain I’ve caused her.

She pulls back just enough to look up at me, her tear-filled eyes searching mine. There’s pain there, yes, but something else too—a deep, burning anger mixed with confusion. She wipes at her face quickly, like she’s trying to pull herself together, and steps out of my embrace.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on instead of just ending it?” Her eyes flicker to her father, who still stands frozen near the bar, his expression unreadable.

I open my mouth to answer, but the words don’t come out right away. Because how do I explain that? How do I tell her that I thought leaving her was the only way to protect her from her father’s disapproval? From the life we’d have had with his constant interference?

“I thought…” I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. “I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to drag you into something your dad was so against. You deserved more, Maliah. You deserved better than what I could give you. I—” My voice falters, and I clench my jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing by walking away.”

Her hands drop to her sides, fists clenching. “And you didn’t think I could decide that for myself? That maybe I wanted you despite what anyone else thought? You didn’t give me the choice, Koa. You let him—” she points at her father, her voice rising, “you let him dictate our relationship. And you think that’s what I deserve? To be lied to and controlled?”

The words hit me like a freight train. I don’t know what to say, because she’s right. I did make that choice for her, and it was a coward’s choice.

“I was trying to protect you,” I say, but the words sound weak even to my own ears.

Maliah shakes her head. “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourself.”

Her father clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. “Maliah?—”

“No.” She turns on him, fire in her eyes now. “You don’t get to speak. Not after what I just heard. You tried to keep Koa from me, tried to sabotage our relationship because you thought you knew better. But you don’t.” Her voice cracks again, but she presses on, standing taller, stronger. “I loved him. I still do. And you tried to ruin that because you can’t stand the idea of someone you don’t approve of being good enough for me. For you.”

Her father looks stunned, as if she slapped him across the face, and for the first time, I see real shock flash in his eyes. She doesn’t wait for a response. Her expression is hard as stone, and she turns her back on him without hesitation, heading for the door.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of everything that just happened between us, but this isn’t the time to dwell on it. She needs to get out of here before she crumbles. I need to get herout of here. “Let’s go,” I say quietly, following behind her as she storms out.

Just before we leave the room, Maliah stops abruptly and turns back to face her father one last time. Her voice drips with venom as she speaks, “And you…pretend like I left with your last wife, too. Never contact me again. I’m done playing your games. I hope you have a long, healthy life with your gold digger girlfriend.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, and her father’s face contorts in a mix of rage and disbelief as his eyes find mine. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Maliah doesn’t wait for him to recover. She stomps out, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors, passing the servers who have just arrived with dessert, Portuguese custard tarts, Maliah’s favourite. It feels like a twisted irony, the fancy meal, the perfect setting, completely ruined by the truth that’s been boiling underneath the surface for too long.

I snatch a tart off the server's platter and glance back at her father. He’s still standing there, frozen, his hand gripping the back of a chair so hard his knuckles are white. His expression is seared into my mind—shock, anger, but most of all, defeat. It’s a moment I’ll never forget, seeing him like this. His eyes find mine and out of spite I take a bite of one of the tarts, winking at him before putting it back on the platter and turning around to leave. But it doesn’t bring me any satisfaction. All I feel is the weight of everything that’s come to light tonight.

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