My Dad's Bestfriend

Evelyn

I drew in a deep breath, feeling the thick silence that had settled over the room. Jacob and I had discussed this trip to Italy at the café earlier, and although nerves hummed beneath my skin, a larger part of me was thrilled. Going back would be a fresh start, a chance for us to be together without the cloud of past events hanging over us. Last time, circumstances hadn't allowed for much happiness, and yet here we were, hoping to rewrite that story.

This trip could be really be different and thousand percent better.

But there was one catch: my dad.

He'd always been protective, and after everything that happened there, I knew he might see this as a risk-a trip he wouldn't want me to take, not so soon. I glanced at Jacob, feeling his hand give mine a small, reassuring squeeze under the table as Dad emitted a long sigh. He reached for more veggies, placing them on his plate with a practiced calm, chewing as though he hadn't heard the question Jacob had asked moments earlier.

Was this his way of saying no? His silence could mean anything...or nothing at all. I found myself holding my breath.

Jacob cleared his throat, attempting again. "Samuel_-"

Dad cut him off, breaking his silence. "You can take her," he said, his words so casual yet shocking, as though he hadn't just flipped our expectations upside down.

Wait, what? Did I hear him right?

That easily?

"Wait, really?"Jacob's eyes widened, a smile already spreading across his face as if he'd won some invisible battle.

"Don't get too excited just yet," Dad added, narrowing his eyes, "Three months only. None of that open-ended vacation like last time."

"Dad..." I began, the protest slipping out instinctively.

"No arguments, Evie," he said firmly, wiping his mouth and pushing back his chair. "What I've said is final. You have three months, or you can enjoy America instead." He turned to leave, but then he paused, glancing back at Jacob.

"And one more thing," he added, his voice turning razor-sharp. "If you make her cry again, you asshole, I'll forget every friendship we've ever had and I'll kill you. That's not a threat—it's a promise."

With that, he strode upstairs, leaving the room heavy with a mixture of relief, shock, and a touch of dread.

Clara chuckled, breaking the tension. "Congrats, you two. Another vacation!"

Jacob grinned, looking at her. "Clara, think you could talk him into six months?" he asked, hopeful.

"You two almost didn't get a week, you know that?" Clara laughed, glancing between us. "He was dead set against Evie setting foot in Italy again anytime soon. But you managed to snag three months, so enjoy that while it lasts. By the end of your trip, I'll see what I can do but no promises. You know how Samuel is; once he's decided something, there's almost no changing his mind."

"Almost?" I asked, hopeful.

Clara nodded, grinning. "Almost. But for now, have your dinner. Skip it, and he might just reconsider those three months."

She was right. If I had any hope of keeping this trip secure, I couldn't risk Dad's mood swinging the other way.

"Yes, baby. Eat up," Jacob murmured with a smirk. "Your dad's unpredictable like that. If that piece of shi-"

I shot him a pointed glare, and he stopped short, looking guilty but amused.

"Piece of what, Jacob?"

"It was just a slip of the tongue," he chuckled, flashing me an innocent smile. "Really, he's the sweetest man on earth. Why else would he be my best friend?"

Clara choked back a laugh, hiding her amusement as she focused on the nearly empty plate in front of her.

I couldn't help the laughter bubbling in my throat, but I bit it back, finally turning my attention back to my food. With Dad's eyes on us, it was definitely safer that way.

***

His hand traced gentle circles on the

small of my back as I rested my

head on his arm, fingers lazily outlining the tattoos on his skin. Occasionally, I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that always seemed to calm me. But tonight, overthinking was creeping in, making it harder to relax-despite Jacob's intuition. He'd already asked me twice if something was troubling me.

How did he read me so effortlessly, even in silence? It was almost like sorcery.

"You know," Jacob murmured, brushing a soft kiss across my temple, "I could carry a bit of that weight for you. Those thoughts look pretty heavy."

I sighed, snuggling closer as I tilted my head up to trace his jawline, feeling the rough stubble under my fingertips.

"It should be illegal to be this pretty," I whispered, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Pretty?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Alright then. Guess I'm 'pretty' now."

A laugh escaped me. "It's not a bad thing."

"Maybe not, but you don't hear 'pretty' much as a guy," he replied, tracing his fingers down my spine. His touch sent a shiver through me, the warmth of his fingers and the

C of his rings making me feel

at ease. "Now," he said softly, "tell me what's really on your mind."

I exhaled, realizing I could no longer keep this from him. It was better to ask, anyway.

"Is Tyler...going to be out of jail anytime soon?" I finally asked.

Jacob's expression shifted, and instead of answering right away, he pulled me closer, his hand gently caressing my cheek. "So, my guess was right," he murmured, studying my face. "It's that bastard, isn't it?"

"Tell me, Jacob. Will he be out soon?"

He sighed, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “No, Evie, he's not getting out. I made sure he'll serve years—without parole. He's facing charges from multiple companies, including mine. He's tangled up in every shady operation there is: drugs, money laundering, abuse, you name it. By the time he's out, he'll be

old and gray. Trust me."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I let out a long sigh, feeling as if I'd been parched and Jacob had given me water at last. "Thank God," I whispered, pressing myself into his embrace. "I can't even begin to tell you what a relief that is." Jacob's lips found my forehead in a gentle kiss. "Don't worry about anything, baby. The worst is behind us now," he said softly. "It's just you and me."

Then, with a mischievous glint, he added, "And no more assholes...except maybe your dad."

I gasped, slapping his arm. "Jerk!"

"Hey, am I wrong?"

"Not even a hint of hesitation!" I shot him a mock glare, sitting up and grabbing a pillow. Without missing a beat, I swung it at him, landing a satisfying hit.

He chuckled, dodging my second swing. "I'm just being honest! Can't fault me for that."

"Oh, it's you who's the real asshole!" I aimed again, but he grabbed a pillow of his own, retaliating with a playful swing that sent a laugh bubbling out of me. "You're so dead!" I warned, unable to hold back my grin.

And just like that, we were at it-pillow-fighting like two kids, laughing and letting the night carry us somewhere light and joyful.