Page 92 of Fierce Hope
Texting wouldn’t be enough—too easy and impersonal. Gathering her courage, she dialed the number she’d sworn she’d never use again.
Her heart pounded against her ribs as she listened to it ring once, twice ... She almost hung up when Ren answered on the third ring, voice familiar and gruff andolder.
“Hey, Dad?—”
“Jade? Is everything okay?”
“It’s good. I’m good,” she managed. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before he responded. “Well, that’s ... that’s good. Really good.”
An awkward pause stretched between them, then he chuckled warmly. “Are you about to hit me up for ice cream money?”
She laughed softly. The joke was familiar territory. Safe ground. “Can’t I just call?”
He hesitated. She pictured him running a hand through his hair the way he always did when emotions got too real. “Sure, sweetheart. I’m glad you did.”
They shared a cautiously heartfelt exchange, keeping the tone light and humorous. Jade told him about work, and her volunteer tutoring with the church, careful to leave out the recent drama with Sarah. He filled her in on his life in Arizona—a steady job as a car mechanic, a condo of his own for the first time in years.
“Been sober two years,” he added, almost casually, though she could hear the pride beneath his nonchalance.
“That’s great, Dad,” she said sincerely. “Really great.”
Ren cleared his throat quietly. “I know I wasn’t father-of-the-year material, Jade, but you turned out amazing despite that. I’m proud of you. Always have been.”
Her throat tightened, her response tender but guarded. “Maybe someday, Dad, we can talk more about it. For now—take care of yourself.”
“You too, Jadie-girl.”
Hanging up, something inside her released.
She forgave him—but she wouldn’t erase boundaries. Healing didn’t require forgetting. It required moving forward.
She glanced at her watch, realizing she needed to get ready for the celebration at Knight Tactical. As she stood, a soft knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.
She opened it to find Deke. The sight instantly steadying her heart. He wore jeans and a deep blue sweater that set off his blue eyes. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly.
“I thought I’d drive you to the party, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” She stepped back to let him in. “I just need a few minutes to get ready.”
He cocked his head. “Something’s up.”
“Actually, I called my dad just now. First time in forever.”
“That’s incredible. How’d it go?”
“Good, I think. It’s a start.”
“Sebastian’s influence?”
“Partly,” she admitted. “But also ... everything that happened. Life’s too short to hold onto all that anger.”
“Forgiveness takes courage.”
She met his eyes tenderly, drawing strength from his certainty. “I had a good example to follow.”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, ready to celebrate?”
