Between The Lines

Chapter 145: Dancing On The Edge Of Challenges

Lane's POV (1st Person):

Sitting at the table, I could feel the tension slowly creeping back into the room. The initial victory of getting Rebecca's parents to agree to this dinner wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped. Rebecca's father still had his eyes on me, sizing me up like I was some sort of intruder at his family's table. He wasn't wrong to feel that way—I knew how this looked. But what he didn't know, what he refused to see, was how much I cared about his daughter.

I glanced at Rebecca. She was trying to smile, trying to keep the atmosphere light, but the stress of the situation was eating away at her. I reached under the table again, squeezing her hand, trying to give her whatever comfort I could. She smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

This was hard on her—harder than I wanted it to be.

Her father cleared his throat, and I forced myself to meet his gaze. "So, Lane," he said, in that same tone he'd been using all night—the one that made it clear he wasn't ready to give an inch, no matter how many people were in the room. "You're 25."

It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway. "Yes, sir."

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly. "And how exactly do you plan on taking care of my daughter? What do you have to offer her?"

Here we go. The interrogation had officially begun. I could feel Rebecca tense next to me, but I stayed calm. I'd known this was coming the moment we sat down for dinner. I wasn't naïve. The man had every right to be concerned about his daughter. I'd be the same if I were in his shoes.

"I understand your concern," I began, keeping my tone respectful. "But I promise you, I'm not here to waste Rebecca's time. I care about her deeply, and I want to build a future with her."

"A future," he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "What kind of future can a 25-year-old teacher offer?"

I bit back a sigh. It was hard not to feel insulted, but I wasn't going to take the bait. "I'm not rich, if that's what you mean. But I'm committed to my career, and I have savings. I'm also planning to get my Master's and possibly teach at the university level one day."

Rebecca's father gave a slow, deliberate nod, clearly unimpressed. "And how long do you think that's going to take? While my daughter waits around for you?"

"She's not waiting around," Rebecca snapped, unable to keep quiet any longer. Her cheeks were flushed with frustration, and her hand tightened around mine. "I'm not some fragile little girl. I can make my own decisions about my life."

Her father's eyes flashed with irritation. "This isn't about you being fragile. It's about what's best for you."

"And you think you know what's best for me better than I do?" Rebecca shot back, her voice sharp.

Before this could spiral into a full-blown argument, I decided to step in. "Sir," I said, keeping my voice calm, "I respect your concerns, but I think it's important to remember that Rebecca is an adult now. She's capable of making her own choices, and I'm here to support her in whatever she wants to do."

For a moment, her father just stared at me, his jaw clenched tight. I could tell he didn't like what I was saying, but there was a part of him—however small—that knew I was right. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to make sense of it all.

Liana, who had been watching the whole exchange with a mix of exasperation and amusement, rolled her eyes again. "Dad, seriously. Just let them be happy."

Her comment earned her a sharp look from him, but she didn't back down. "I mean it. They're clearly good together. Why can't you just... I don't know, trust them?"