“I should have stopped the smoke.”
I sat down.
“Yes.”
“I knew you’d refused.”
“I know.”
“I thought it would be a harmless little surprise.”
I looked toward Daniel, who was packing our suitcase.
“Dad, if you’d respected my answer, none of that would have happened.”
He was quiet.
Then he whispered, “You’re right.”
I swallowed.
It was such a small sentence.
But I couldn’t remember the last time my father had admitted that without adding an excuse.
He continued.
“The venue manager sent Tyler an invoice estimate for the extra cleaning and staff time. He’s discussing the actual charges with them.”
“Good.”
“I offered to help him pay.”
I hesitated.
“Dad, that’s between you and Tyler. I don’t want another expense quietly coming back to me.”
“It won’t.”
I hoped he meant it.
Before we ended the call, he asked whether I’d reconsider visiting after the honeymoon.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
He sounded disappointed.
But he didn’t argue.
When I put the phone down, Daniel came over.
“How did it go?”
I considered.
“Better than I expected.”
He smiled.
