Young Writers Society

My heart skipped a beat as I exchanged glances with Zeke, an unspoken promise that I’d be back soon. As I followed my father out of the room, his disapproval lingered. He led me to his study. Behind us, the doors closed, shutting out the sound of the festivities. The room had luxurious decor, with dark wood furniture and shelves filled with leather-bound books. The air carried faint hints of cigar smoke that had not been when we met last.

My father gestured to a leather chair, and I sat, my palms clammy as I braced myself. He remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced before me.

"Abigail..." His voice was steady, the sound echoing in the silence of the large room. “I must admit, I’m somewhat surprised by your choice of company.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady myself. “Zeke is a good person, Father. He’s funny and intelligent, and he treats me with respect. He cares about me.”

With a stern expression, he stopped pacing and turned his attention to me. “Respect? Great. Cares? Sure. But is he suitable for you? Your upbringing has groomed you for a certain path, and this… young man, he’s from a different world altogether.”

I took a deep breath, my fingers tightly clutching the chair’s armrest. “Father, I understand that Zeke’s background differs from ours. But how he treats me matters more, right?”

My father’s gaze didn’t relent. “I’m not questioning how he treats you. I’m concerned about whether he can provide the life you deserve. What happened to Jake?”

Rage surged through me. My fingers tightened in a ball on my lap. A tingle rooted my feet to the ground as it grew like a tree. How dare he! He dared to dictate my life and destroy the very work of it. Even so, that wasn’t enough. He had to meddle in my relationships and act high and mighty, all because Zeke wasn’t born into riches. This was a struggle I had known all too well. Nothing was good enough for him. Who or what I love was not important. He crossed a line by destroying my art, and I could not sit idly back anymore. Too much time had been wasting being obedient and quiet, and I could no longer be the daughter he wanted me to be.

“I broke up with Jake, Father. I don’t need someone to provide for me. My heart desires someone who can make me genuinely happy and love me deeply. Someone who sets my heart on fire.”

Letting out a deep sigh, he momentarily let his guard down, his expression softening. “Abigail, this is not just about you. It’s about our family. It’s about your future children and their children’s children.”

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. “Father, I love you and respect our family, but you crossed a line, and I’m not sure I can forgive you. You need to let me live my life, or you can’t be a part of it anymore.”

He leaned against his desk, crossed his arms, and his wrinkles creased further on his forehead. “Abigail, I only want what’s best for you. You do not fully understand the implications of your choices. Sometimes, I must take action to get people to listen.”

Wiping away a tear that slipped, my voice quivered as I spoke. “I hope in time you can see Zeke for who he is and not just where he comes from. I hope you’ll appreciate art one day, but that will never happen. Not everything is about money, you know?”

He took a deep breath, his resolve appearing to shift. “You may be right, and I know that money isn’t everything, but it does open doors. It's best to keep in mind the expectations placed upon us. You’ll do better if you don’t disregard those entirely.”

My head shook from side to side, sadness swirling within me. “I don’t want to live under those expectations anymore.”

Before he could respond, I stood and left the room, noticing how my father did not follow me. As I re-entered the gathering, Zeke’s eyes found mine instantly, concern creasing his forehead.

Isadora stood by the grand piano, chatting animatedly with a group of our cousins. She spotted me, her eyes narrowing as she sensed something was amiss. She was adept at reading my emotions, even when a smile hid them, and was always ready to referee my fights with our father.

I approached her, and she excused herself from the conversation. “What happened?”

Managing a weak smile, I attempted to deflect. “It’s nothing, Izzy. Just a difference of opinion, you know how it gets.”

She arched an eyebrow, not convinced. “You can’t lie to me.”

I glanced around to ensure no prying ears were eavesdropping. “On top of the laundry list of what he’s done to me, he added another. It’s Zeke. He doesn’t like him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what his problem is. He’s protective and loves us, but he doesn’t know when to stop.”

“He sees Zeke’s background as a threat to our reputation.”

Her gaze softened, and she squeezed my arm. “The more we talk to him, it may break him down. It’s hard not to see how happy Zeke makes you.”

“Good luck in getting him to listen. You will run out of words in the English language before he hears you.”

I could feel Isadora's laughter vibrating against my chest as she pulled me in for a hug, her plea lingering in the air when she let go. “I know he doesn’t deserve it, but just…try to be patient with him?”

“Honestly, I’m done with that. I’m over fighting with him. Although patience isn't my strong suit, I'll give it a try, but I'm only doing it for you. Don't be surprised if I grow a few gray hairs while waiting for him to change.”

Isadora's infectious laughter caused her eyes to crinkle with amusement. “Fair point, but I’ll take it.”

We shared a quiet giggle before approaching footsteps drew our attention, causing us to stop. I turned to see Zeke.

“What did I miss?” His question hung in the air for a minute while I exchanged a glance with Isadora. In that shared look, I saw her wordless approval of the man who stood before us. She leaned in and nudged my arm, a conspiratorial smile on her lips.

“Oh, just some sisterly advice.” I nudged her back.

Zeke raised an eyebrow, his eyes shifting between us with amusement. “Advice, huh?”

“Izzy here thinks she can work some sisterly magic and reason with our father.”

The sound of Zeke's laughter filled the air, and I couldn't help but smile as his dimple appeared, confirming its sincerity. “Well, I’m all for magical interventions, but she will need some strong voodoo for that.”

Isadora’s laughter made members of our family glance at us. “Send all the positive vibrations this way.” She leaned closer to me and whispered, “Just promise me you won’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of your happiness.”

I held her gaze and mouthed the words ‘I promise.’