Chapter 72

As Sloane chattered excitedly about the concert, worry nagged at the edge of my conscience. It had been an incredible night with my girl, seeing her let loose and dance. We had laughed and taken pictures, and the music didn't even make me want to claw my ears out.

But beneath the surface, I sensed something was off. I had a sneaking suspicion I had just been used by my fourteen-year-old daughter and I didn't like it. As we drove home, my mind was racing. Had I unknowingly upset Isadora by bringing Sloane to the concert?

"I had so much fun," Sloane exclaimed. "I know that's probably not your kind of music, but did you like it?"

"It was alright." I nodded. "They put on one heck of a show."

"I can't wait to go to another concert," she said. "I don't even mind hanging out with my dad."

I laughed. "Gee, thanks."

We drove in silence for a few minutes.

"I got the impression your mom's feelings were hurt," I said. "Did I do something wrong by taking you to that concert?"

Sloane sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Mom was going to take me to see them. She was making a big deal out of taking me to my first concert."

"Oh, Sloane, I wish you had told me," I said. "I think we really hurt her feelings."

Sloane's response was casual, almost dismissive, as she waved a hand in the air. "I wanted to go with you, Dad. It's my decision."

Her words hung between us, a heavy silence settling over the car as I struggled to find the right response. In her youthful recklessness, Sloane had caused her mother pain, and I had been her unsuspecting accomplice.

"I'm glad you wanted to spend it with me," I said softly. "But I think you knew it would hurt her feelings. And now, I'm in on it."

We continued our journey home, the silence between us pregnant with regret. In that moment, I wondered how we had arrived at this juncture—a fractured family, struggling to navigate the complexities of love and loyalty.

As we pulled into the driveway, I resolved to address the situation head on, to confront the anger and find a path toward healing. For Sloane's sake, for Isadora's sake, and for the fragile bonds that held us together, I knew that we couldn't afford to ignore things.

The tension between Sloane and me was palpable as we sat across from each other in the living room, the air thick with unresolved emotions. This was the first big fight we'd had, and I knew that the outcome would have far-reaching consequences for our family.

"Sloane," I began, my voice measured yet firm. "I need you to understand something. I love your mother, and I love you. But I can't ignore the fact that your actions hurt her."

Sloane's eyes flashed with defiance, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "I just wanted to spend time with you, Dad," she protested, her voice tinged with frustration. "Is that so wrong?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Of course not, Sloane. All I want to do is spend time with you and have fun. But not at the expense of your mother's feelings. We can't be a family if all we do is hurt each other."

She remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the floor. I could see the conflict warring within her—the desire for independence clashing with the realization of the impact of her actions.

"Do you mean that?" she finally asked, her voice small and uncertain.

I met her gaze. "Yes, Sloane," I replied earnestly. "I mean it. I want us to be a family. You, me, and your mother. But that means we have to consider each other's feelings and work together to find solutions, even when we have a bee in our bonnets."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means, when you're pissed off, don't lash out." I smiled at her. "We can talk it out."

Her expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. "I didn't mean to hurt Mom," she admitted quietly. "I mean, I did, but I didn't think it would upset her. I thought it would just get her goat a little. Now I feel terrible."

I reached out and squeezed her hand gently, offering her a reassuring smile. "I believe you. But we need to be mindful of how our actions affect each other. That's what being a family is all about. We'll drive each other crazy sometimes, but don't be cruel. Kind of like Elvis said."

She frowned at me. "Is that a friend of yours or something?"

My jaw dropped open. "Are you serious right now? Elvis Presley?"

She giggled at me. "Of course I'm not serious. That movie just came out. I know he was like a movie star or something."

"I have so much to teach you," I said.

As we sat together in the dimly lit room, I knew that our journey as a family would be filled with challenges and obstacles. But in that moment, I was filled with determination to overcome our differences and forge a stronger, more resilient bond together.

I turned to face her. "Listen, Sloane," I began, my voice gentle yet firm. "I know you didn't mean to hurt your mom. But now, we need to focus on fixing things."

She nodded, her expression contrite. "I know, Dad," she replied softly, her eyes downcast. "I messed up. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

I reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Sloane. We'll figure it out together."

I looked toward the stairs. Isadora's bedroom light shone faintly from up there, and I knew she was likely already in bed.

Sloane's gaze followed mine. "I should go talk to Mom," she said quietly.

I shook my head gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, Sloane. Not tonight. I'll figure out a plan for tomorrow, and I need you to trust me."

She looked at me uncertainly, but after a moment, she nodded in agreement. "Okay, Dad," she said.

I gave her a reassuring smile before ushering her toward her own bedroom. "Get some rest, Sloane," I said gently. "We have a lot of apologizing to do tomorrow."

She nodded, offering me a smile before disappearing into her room. Pride swelled within me. Despite a serious lapse in judgment, Sloane was owning up to her mistakes and seemed committed to fixing the damage we had done. My daughter wasn't a little girl anymore.

I made my way to Isadora's bedroom. I hated seeing her hurt, knowing that my actions had contributed to her pain. But I also knew that Sloane and I were growing closer, forging a bond that I had longed for since the day I knew she existed.

As I slipped into bed beside Isadora, sadness mingled with hope. I was determined to do whatever it took to mend our family and build a bright future together. And as I wrapped my arms around Isadora, holding her close, I knew that together, we would find a way to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.

As I lay in bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind like a broken record. The tension between Isadora and Sloane sucked, and I hoped my plan would work to seal the rift between them.

Closing my eyes, I focused on my breathing, trying to clear my mind. Bringing Sloane and Isadora back together was paramount, I realized. They were both hurting, and I couldn't bear to see them at odds with each other.

With a heavy sigh, I turned onto my side. Tomorrow would be a new day, a chance to make things right. I drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with visions of reconciliation and healing.

The next morning, I woke with a renewed sense of determination. Today would be the day we began to heal the wounds that had been inflicted on our family. I dressed quickly making sure not to disturb Isadora, eager to set my plan in motion.

Heading downstairs, I found Sloane already up and about, a tired but eager look on her face. "Morning, Dad," she greeted me, her voice a little softer than usual.

"Morning, Sloane," I replied, offering her a smile. "Ready for our big day?"

She nodded, a hint of apprehension in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess so," she said quietly.

I could sense her uncertainty, but I knew that together, we could face whatever lay ahead. "We'll get through this, Sloane," I reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I promise."

With Sloane by my side, we set off to find Isadora and make things right. As we approached her bedroom door, my heart raced with anticipation. This was the moment we had been waiting for.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly on the door, my hand trembling slightly with nerves. "Isadora?" I called out.

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open, revealing Isadora's tired but hopeful face. "Graham? What's going on?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

I took a step forward, reaching out to take her hand in mine. "We need to talk, Isadora," I said gently, meeting her gaze with determination. "It's time to put the past behind us and move forward as a family."

Isadora looked at me, surprised. "Really?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

I nodded, squeezing her hand. "Really," I confirmed, my voice filled with conviction. "We can't change what's happened, but we can choose how we move forward from here, right?"

She nodded. "Right."

With that, I stepped aside to reveal Sloane standing behind me, her eyes brimming with emotion. "Mom," she said softly, her voice catching in her throat.

Isadora's eyes widened in surprise as she took in Sloane's presence. "Sloane," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Without another word, Sloane stepped forward and enveloped Isadora in a tight hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I was mean and I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I love you."

Tears filled Isadora's eyes as she returned Sloane's embrace, holding her daughter close. "I love you too, Sloane," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

In that moment, as we stood together as a family, I knew that everything would be okay. We had weathered the storm and emerged stronger than ever.

And as I looked at Isadora and Sloane, I was grateful for the love that bound us together and the hope that would carry us forward into the future.