Page 116 of The Score We Never Settled

“Don’t need to,” I return. “I’m not hurting for it.”

He hesitates before he bobs his head. “Okay. I’m wishing you the best when you get back, son. Take care of yourself and your beautiful wife. I’ll be rooting for you.”

Then he rounds my body and takes off, leaving me in a bit of a turmoiled state that this is all too little, too late, but my brain still locks onto the fact that it’s wished for it for so long that it acknowledges it.

But how do we grow past it?

“About that wife, boy,” a male voice pushes out from behind me, enticing me to crane my head and meet another so-called pain in the ass.

However, that pain in the ass was me, and he was the one who got the short end of the stick.

Layla’s Uncle Ben.

He glowers a bit at me, and I hold it because what’s done is done and by no means is going to scare me off with whatever threats he has saved up in his head.

I’ve said it once, a million times, and I’ll say it again.

Layla Jean is mine, and no one is going to fuck that up for me.

“Mr. Melrose,” I address with zero excitement or fake fucks that I’m happy to see him. “I’d love to have this chat, but I have to go meet Micah Wolfe?—”

“This will only take a second,” he insists, taking a step closer and never taking his authoritative stance off me. “You married my niece, didn’t ask for my permission, and hid it from me like some secret you both were gonna die with.”

“I wanted her to tell you,” I reply. “But she wasn’t ready?—”

“That was up toyouto approach me about the matter, boy. She’s my responsibility?—”

“You’d never say yes in a thousand years,” I argue, because he wouldn’t, and I’m not going to stand here and get bitched at for something he never would’ve given in the first place. “And half of it’s your fault because Layla never felt comfortable going to you about it. It’s a big reason why it stayed a secret so long, and we almost got divorced.So, spare me the should’ve asked part because it’s bullshit, and you never wanted me with her in the first place.”

“Still don’t.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Sorry to hear that, sir. But I love your niece. And she means everything to me.”

His jaw ticks, and I’m never going to be seen as good in his eyes, so I leave it alone. My father just emotionally drained me, and I have to go see a bunch of kids with too much energy and not enough Ritalin.

“You’d better take care of her,” he commands through a sneer. “I’m not playin’ with you, boy. She deserves the world. And you may have millions of dollars, but that’s not going to buy her happiness. She needs support and?—”

“I understand that, sir. I’ve been trying to retire for years, and she won’t let me.”

His face lifts, seeming surprised, and that takes some of the tension out of his body. “She won’t?”

“No.”

Pushing his lips out, he looks over at Buttercup & Brioche and bobs his head. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“She loves you, that much is obvious. But she wants you both to have what you’ve worked so hard for. And that, in turn, means sacrifices. It’s what her Aunt Denise and I had to do for years. She was a lawyer, still in school when…we made it work. Obviously, she saw that.” He looks back at me. “You’ve got a year to make me like you. If not, it’s going to be hell for you.”

Okay…

I’m not entirely sure what that would look like or what that would consist of, but I don’t push it. He’s from Magnolia Ridge, where expectations are wildly high, and things are extreme. He’s asking for a miracle, and I can’t say I’ve ever pulled one of those off.

However, for Layla’s sake, I’ll do my best.

“Thank you, Mr. Melrose,” I deadpan because kissing his ass is going to get me nowhere, and filling his head with lies is going to do the same.