Page 108 of Nineteen Letters
Leaning forward, I sucked your bottom lip into my mouth. “I’m pretty sure you will.”
My leg bounced nervously under the table as we sat in the kitchen and waited for your dad to arrive home from work. Your mother was behind us, busily stirring dinner on the stovetop.
I felt sick in the stomach when we heard your father’s car pull up in the driveway. The moment he entered the kitchen, you reached for my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
He kissed the top of your head. “Hi, pumpkin.”
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Brax, my boy,” he added as he passed me, ruffling my hair.
“Hey, Mr Robinson.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said when he reached your mum, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Dinner smells delicious. We were busy at the bank today, so I didn’t get time for lunch. I’m starved.”
“It will be ready in about ten minutes,” she replied.
That was my cue; it was now or never. “Mr Robinson,” I said, inhaling a large breath as I stood and scrubbed my hands down the front of my jeans. “Could I have a word with you?”
My eyes briefly met yours. “I love you,” you mouthed, and it was in that moment I knew that whatever punishment I was about to receive from your father was worth it.
“Sure.” He gave me an inquisitive look as he followed me into the lounge room. “Is everything okay, son?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Shoot.” He eyed me sceptically as he slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
“Jemma and I recently realised that our feelings for each other go beyond friendship.”
His expression turned serious. “I see.”
“We’ve decided to enter into a relationship.”
He took time to ponder my words. He wore a stoic look the entire time, so I was unable to gauge how he truly felt about this situation.
“Do you love her?” he asked, eventually.
“Very much.”
“Jemma, can you come in here, please?” he called out. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
“Has there been any funny business going on?” he asked as we waited for you.
“No, sir, but we’ve kissed.” He cleared his throat but didn’t reply.
I valued my life too much to tell him you’d touched my torch.
“Yes, Daddy,” you said, coming to stand beside me. Your father’s gaze moved down to our hands when you laced your fingers through mine.
“I’d like to hear your take on this … relationship.”
You pulled back your shoulders and looked at me as you spoke. “I love him, and he loves me. I’m not sure what else you want me to say,” you replied.
“That’s enough,” he said, nodding his head. He took a few steps towards me. “As long as you treat my daughter with respect, and don’t break her heart, we won’t have a problem. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He extended his arm, and we shook hands. “I’d welcome you to the family, but you’ve been a part of this family for years.”
