Page 122 of Chasing Lyric
And I swear to God, I nearly drop to my knees. My chest feels like it’s caving in, pride and pain fighting for room inside it. My hands fist at my sides, not from anger, but from the sheer force of holding myself together.
This is what she needed—something real, something tangible, something irreplaceable.
This is her peace.
Her anchor.
Her beginning again.
The woman I love is falling apart and rebuilding right in front of me, all in the arms of a man I have known for years on a business level, but will thank every damn day for showing up.
She pulls back just enough to cradle her father’s face between her trembling hands, memorizing every line, every weathered wrinkle, every part of him she thought she wouldn’t see for years. Her smile is drenched in tears, eyes sparkling like they’re made of sunlight and saltwater.
“Are youreallyhere?” she whispers.
Her dad chuckles, hoarse and emotional. “I ain’t going anywhere, baby girl.”
I take a step back, needing to catch my breath. To let them have this. Because this moment right here? It was never about me. But damn if it doesn’t make me love her even more.
And when she turns just slightly, her cheek pressed against her father’s chest, and her tear-streaked eyes find mine across the room, I see it.
Gratitude.
Raw and wordless.
She knows I did this, and even if she never says it out loud, it’s there.
We’re not healed.
Not yet.
But this?It’s the beginning of something new.
And I’ll wait however long it takes for her to be ready.
Stylo Griffin, ’80s rock legend, stands before me, and his eyes shift to take me in. His head dips once. I nod back at him as he embraces his baby girl while she cries in his arms. He softlystrokes her hair as he pulls back and assesses her face. “You’ve lost weight, Lyric. I know what’s happened between Chase and you is not good, baby girl, but you gotta keep your health up.”
She sniffles. “It’s been so hard, Daddy,” she whimpers, and the sound breaks my heart.
He wipes the tears from her face with his thumbs, peering right into her eyes. “I know. I know all about it. Chase has told me everything. It’s why I’m here… hopefully to help.”
Lyric turns back to me. There’s something in her eyes, but I’m not quite sure what it is.
Maybe a thank you for bringing her father to her.
Maybe curiosity as to why.
Maybe understanding.
Lyric’s emotional right now, and she’s hard to read. Either way, the only thing I do know is her father might be the only person who can make her see the light in this fucked-up situation I’ve caused. Stylo Griffin might bemy only hope.
“Let’s have a seat. This could take a while,” Stylo instructs Lyric.
Lyric clings to her father’s arm as he gently guides her back toward the sofa, her steps a little unsteady as if the moment still hasn’t fully settled. I move with them, keeping close but not crowding her. They sit side by side, shoulders touching, and I ease down on the other end of the couch, close enough to show I’m here, far enough to respect the space she needs.
She won’t let me in, not yet.
She’s made that crystal clear.
