hand cupping my jaw. “I love you,” he tells me softly.
My heart swells at his words. I don't think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you too.”
“Linda?” I look to the left and see my stepfather staring at me in shock.
“Dad?” I splutter, pulling away from Asher a little. “What are you doing here?”
“Dad?” Asher questions in shock. “Peterson is your father?”
I look up at him, wondering what's going on.
“I followed Asher here after he left our meeting like a bat out of hell. Now imagine my surprise at finding him here when he was meant to be meeting his wife. I guess my first impression of you was correct,” he spits at Asher.
Asher ignores him completely, focusing solely on me. “I didn’t know, I swear. You don’t have the same last name, hell, I didn’t even know Peterson had a daughter,” he assures me, willing me to believe him and, surprisingly enough, I do.
“I have my birth dad's name. Jack’s my stepfather, and I believe you had no clue who I was or the whole Vegas wedding then being separated for a year would have likely played out differently.”
His shoulders sag in relief before he wraps his arm around me and tucks me into his side.
“Does anyone want to explain to me what the fuck is going on?” my father splutters. I wonder how he even got in without an invite because lord knows I didn’t send him one. I’m about to ask when Molly steps up to me.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Sloan, but I just wanted to let you know that we’ve sold all but the one piece you asked us not to. Congratulations.” She gives my arm a squeeze, ignoring the tension surrounding us, leaving me in shock as she walks away and Graham takes her place.
“Asshole,” I greet him with a sweet smile.
“Laura.” He smirks back.
“Did she just call you, Mrs. Sloan?” my dad whispers loudly, making me turn to face him as his face pales.
I swallow hard and burrow closer to Asher. “Yeah. I believe you know my husband, Asher.”
“So let me get this straight, you got fired from your job, got married in secret, and now you’re working at a gallery?” he says with distaste coating his words, making me shrink in on myself a little. I guess some things never change.
Asher’s arm tightens around me as I speak. “Actually, I work in a bar,” I snap, but my father talks over me.
“This is exactly the reckless kind of behavior I was talking about. I was trying to protect you from men like him, and now you are… you’re, you’re…” he flounders, so I answer for him.
“I’m happy,” I answer for him.
He scoffs, but Asher has had enough. “Excuse me, Peterson, but I don't think you are in any position to judge us. It seems to me your daughter didn’t fit the mold you tried to shove her into, so she left to be free. That’s on you, not her. You should be fucking proud of who she is, Christ knows I am. I’m the luckiest person in this room because I get to wake up every day knowing Linda is in my life. What kind of idiot would throw that away? Look around you. All these people are here to celebrate your daughter's success. The only person who can’t seem to see how amazing she is, is you.”
My father looks around the room as my heart beats out of control at Asher's speech. I focus on my father’s face as he freezes and his lips part as he stares at something across the room. I turn and see the picture of my mother.
“Ella,” he breathes, walking toward it, almost like he’s in a trance.
“Are you all right?” Asher asks softly.
I lift my head to look at him and nod. “I am now.”
“I feel like I deserve some credit for this,” Graham announces, breaking the moment, making me look at him in confusion.
“Credit for what? What are you even doing here?” Asher voices my question.
“Peterson was impressed you were so devoted to your wife. He insisted we join you. Of course, I didn’t know he was your father, Laura. Thanks for the heads up,” Graham mocks, and the desire to punch him surges.
“You must have a really big dick,” I muse, making him look at me in surprise.
“Skittle,” Asher warns from beside me, but I ignore him.
“Not that it's any of your business, but I really do,” Graham answers