The World We Live In | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙾 ♤

Chapter 32

With an appetite overshadowed by busy thoughts, Cristine absently picked at her food. After alleviating Dave's worries about the water run, she hadn't stayed in the stables for too long. Noting someone coming in her direction, Cristine glanced up to see her father, tray in his hand, join her. He sat across from her, noticing the tension in her shoulders and the distant look in her eyes.

"Hey, Birdie," James said, trying to sound casual. "Mind if I join you?"

Cristine forced a smile. "Sure, plenty of space." This time, she decided to eat something and fill her stomach. Her father followed her example with a smile.

As they began to eat, a comfortable silence enveloped them, broken only by the soft murmur of conversation. James studied Cristine discreetly, noting the furrow of her brow and the distant look in her eyes. His fatherly instincts kicked in.

"I, uh," James started and scratched his throat, "I heard about all the commotion earlier." He hesitated initially, pinpointing what he guessed was the root of Cristine's complicated expression.

Cristine sighed, knowing she couldn't hide anything from her father. "Dax got out with a few bruises, but he'll be fine." She replied, her voice tinged with frustration.

James saw how Cristine stabbed her fork into some mashed potatoes and swallowed his food. The scuffle between Troy and Dax was the talk of the day. James suspected Cristine's mood had been impacted by it. He knew his daughter well enough to recognize her moods. "And Troy?" He asked carefully, his gaze filled with genuine concern.

The mention of her boyfriend caused Cristine to tense slightly, her grip on the fork tightening momentarily before she forced herself to relax. She took a deep breath. "Troy's... Troy," Cristine said, running her tongue along the back of her teeth.

James nodded once, sensing the underlying tension in Cristine's response and how she tried to mask her true feelings from leaking on her face. He decided to tread carefully, not wanting to push too hard but also wanting to offer his support. "If you feel like venting, Birdie, I'm all ears." He asked gently, his tone filled with genuine concern.

Cristine's facade cracked under her father's soft gaze, her defenses crumbling in the face of his genuine concern. She sighed, her shoulders sagging with the motion. "He's acting like an asshole, but what else is new?"

James said carefully, choosing his words. "You know, when your mother and I got into arguments, an apology was always a good first step."

Cristine met her father's gaze, her expression hardening. "I didn't start this," she said bluntly. "And I'm sure as hell not going to apologize."

James sighed, understanding his daughter's frustration. "I get that, sweetheart. And I'm not saying that you should."

Cristine glanced down at her plate, suddenly finding it difficult to meet James's gaze. "It's just... we got into an argument after," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Some pretty messed up stuff was said."

James reached out and placed a comforting hand on Cristine's arm, offering her a reassuring smile. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" he said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "I'm here for you, Birdie."

Cristine felt a surge of gratitude wash over her as she looked up at her father, comforted by his presence and reassured by his words. She nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Daddy," she said softly, her emotion-filled voice.

Sensing an opportunity to impart some wisdom, James continued gently. "If it wasn't for your mother, I never would've changed," James said, his voice thick with emotion. "She never let me off easy, even when I apologized first." He chuckled softly. "Mariana could hold one hell of a grudge - petty as hell, but I loved that about her, too. You got that from her, you know."