Page 146 of Rush

---

I come home from the lab expecting an empty flat and maybe a text from Rush. Instead I find my dad in my kitchen. He's got takeaway bags on the counter and he's looking around my small space like he's trying to figure out how I live here.

"Dad," I say, stopping in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Brought dinner," he says. "Figured we should talk."

"You could have called first."

"Would you have answered?"

"Probably not."

He almost smiles. "That's what I thought."

I set my bag down and look at him, really look at him. He's out of place here in my tiny flat, too big for the space, too intimidating for the soft domesticity of my life. But he's trying. I can see it in the way he's carefully unpacking the food.

"What did you get?" I ask.

"Thai, your favorite."

The fact that he remembers makes my chest tight. I walk over and help him unpack. We work in silence for a minute.

"You've got a nice place," he says.

"It's small."

"It's yours. That's what matters."

I glance at him. "You didn't come here to talk about my apartment."

"No, I didn't."

"Then why are you here?"

He sets down the container he's holding. "Because I handled things badly at the clubhouse and I need to make it right."

The admission surprises me.

"Yeah, you did handle it badly."

"I know."

"You blindsided me, Dad. You showed up earlier than you said and went after Rush in front of everyone."

"I was protecting you."

"By humiliating the man I love?"

He flinches slightly. "I wasn't trying to humiliate him. I was trying to see if he could handle the pressure."

"Well congratulations, you scared the shit out of him."

"Good. He should be scared. You're my daughter."

I cross my arms. "That doesn't give you the right to ambush us."

"You're right, it doesn't." He runs his hand through his hair. "I should have talked to you first."

"Yeah, you should have."

---