Meeting her parent

The marriage between June Williams and Xander Hale was the talk of the town. It wasn’t just the whirlwind nature of the engagement that had everyone buzzing it was the timing, the scandal, the unanswered questions. Society columnists devoured it. Social media ran with it. Whispers crept into business meetings, charity luncheons, and brunch tables:

She moved on too fast.

Was she really cheating on Larry?

Why him? Why Xander?

Is this about money? Revenge? Image?

But for June, none of that mattered. The public could talk. People could judge. As far as she was concerned, she had chosen love. Or at least, she had chosen peace.

And peace came with Xander.

He had been steady in the storm, patient through her breakdowns, quiet in his support. When the world turned its back on her, he held her up. And for the first time in years, she didn’t feel like she was drowning.

Which was why, on a quiet Wednesday afternoon, she picked up the phone and called the only person whose opinion could still sway her heart.

Her father.

She hadn’t spoken to him in a few days not out of avoidance, but because she was dreading the conversation she knew would come. Her father, Richard Williams, was a man of few words and sharp instincts. A former corporate strategist turned quiet vineyard owner in the countryside, he had watched his daughter go through heartbreak with Larry. He had seen the damage.

He’d also been the one who picked up the pieces when she crashed.

And he wasn’t one to easily trust new faces.

When his gruff voice came through the line, June immediately felt like a child again.

“June,” he said warmly. “Been a while. You all right?”

She smiled faintly. “Hi, Papa. I’m… I’m okay. I wanted to talk to you.”

There was a pause, a rustling sound—probably him setting aside the paper or stepping out onto his porch.

“I’m listening.”

She took a breath.

“I’m getting married.”

Silence.

Then, “To Xander.”

“Yes.”

A longer silence this time. Heavy. Measured.

“I see,” he said eventually. “And how long have you known this man again?”

“Almost a year,” June said, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. “But we’ve grown really close in the last six months. He’s… he’s been there for me in ways I didn’t think anyone would be.”

“I’m not doubting that,” her father replied carefully. “But six months, June. After what happened with Larry, I thought you would take more time.”

“I know how it looks, Papa,” she said quietly. “But it’s not like that. Xander is different. He’s kind. He listens. He doesn’t try to fix me he just sees me. He’s helped me through everything that’s happened with the media and the public backlash. He’s been my anchor.”

Richard let out a breath, the kind that carried weight.

“June,” he said gently. “You know I love you more than anything. And I will always support you. But I need to ask you this, and I need you to really think are you sure about this Xander of a man? Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”

Her eyes filled instantly, not with sadness—but with frustration.

“Dad…”

“I’m not trying to control you,” he continued. “But I’ve seen men like him before. Men who come into your life when you’re at your lowest, who offer safety and comfort not out of love, but out of strategy. I’m not accusing him of anything, but I am saying trust isn’t built in storms. It’s tested in peace.”

June shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks now.

“You’re wrong about him,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “He’s not like Larry. He’s not manipulative or controlling. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t lie. When everyone else turned their back on me, he stayed.”

“I’m not saying he’s Larry,” her father replied. “I’m saying your heart is still healing. And when we’re healing, we sometimes cling to the person who hands us the first warm blanket because we’re cold, not because it fits.”

“I’ve thought about this,” she insisted. “I’ve wrestled with it. I even told him no the first time he proposed. But then I realized… I’ve spent so much time being afraid to love again. And what if I keep pushing people away out of fear? What if I miss something good?”

Her father was quiet again.

Then he said, “Then I hope with all my heart that you’re right.”

“I am right, Papa. Please… just trust me.”

He sighed. “I trust you, baby girl. I’m just not sure I trust the story you’re telling yourself.”

Those words hit deep.

But June stood her ground.

“I have to live my life, Papa. I’ve been walking on eggshells long enough. I need to believe I can still have something beautiful.”

“I understand. Just…” his voice cracked slightly, “promise me you’ll keep your eyes open. Don’t get so caught up in escaping the past that you ignore the signs in the present.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

“I love you, Junebug.”

“I love you too.”

Back in the City

Xander stood at the corner of the living room, sipping wine and pretending to read when June came back from the call, her face pensive.

“Everything okay?” he asked casually.

June smiled faintly. “Yeah. I just talked to my dad.”

He raised a brow. “And?”

“He’s… concerned,” she admitted, walking over to sit beside him. “He’s worried I’m rushing. That I’m letting my emotions lead me.”

Xander reached out, took her hand, and squeezed it.

“Did you tell him how happy I make you?”

“I did.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” he said gently. “People on the outside won’t understand what we’ve built. But that doesn’t mean what we have isn’t real.”

She leaned against him, letting his warmth absorb her unease.

He smiled.

She was defending him now. To her father.

Another thread tied.

Another gate lowered.

He was almost in.

And once he was, everything she had would be his.

if he’s that worried, why don’t I just meet him?”

June blinked. “Meet him?”

“Yeah. Like men. I’ll go out to the vineyard, talk to him face-to-face. Maybe seeing us together, seeing how serious I am maybe it’ll change how he sees this.”

June tilted her head. “You’re sure you want to do that? He’s… not the warmest when it comes to strangers.”

“All the more reason to meet him,” Xander replied confidently. “I’m not afraid of difficult conversations. He’s your father, June. I want his blessing not because we need it, but because I know it matters to you.”

Her heart softened.

“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. “He just needs to see what I see in you.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, his expression nothing short of sincerity. “Exactly. Let me show him that I’m not Larry. That I’m not a mistake you’ll regret.”

June smiled faintly, some of the anxiety in her chest beginning to loosen.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll call him.”

Richard Williams stood on the porch of his rustic country home, arms folded across his chest, watching as a sleek black SUV rolled up the gravel driveway. His brow furrowed, his expression unreadable.

The land behind him stretched into neat rows of green vines his pride, his quiet place. He didn’t get many visitors out here, and he preferred it that way.

As the car stopped and the driver stepped out to open the door, Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly. Xander emerged in a navy blazer and crisp dark jeans effortlessly elegant, casual yet calculated. He looked like someone who knew how to walk into boardrooms and living rooms with the same ease.

“Mr. Williams,” Xander greeted, walking up the porch steps and extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Richard shook his hand, firm and slow. “Is it?”

Xander smiled at the challenge. “I’d like it to be.”

Richard gestured toward the porch table, where two glasses of iced tea already waited.

“Sit,” he said simply.

Xander complied without hesitation.

The first few minutes were quiet, filled only with the sound of birds and the wind in the trees.

“You came all the way out here,” Richard said finally. “Why?”

“Because your daughter matters to me,” Xander said smoothly. “And because I know you have doubts. I don’t blame you for that. But I believe when something’s real, you don’t run from scrutiny you face it.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “You rehearsed that line?”

“No,” Xander chuckled. “Though I admit, I’ve practiced being honest.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

Richard leaned back. “What is it you do again?”

“Investments. Primarily real estate development and private holdings. I manage assets. I build things slowly, thoughtfully. Like you and this vineyard.”

Richard’s gaze didn’t waver. “And what do you want with my daughter?”

Xander paused. This was the question he’d expected.

“I want to build a life with her,” he said. “One built on respect and trust. I know she’s been hurt. I know she’s not ready

made for fairy tales. But I love her. And I want to protect her.”

Richard’s face remained unreadable. “Funny thing about protecting people. Sometimes the ones who talk about it the most are the ones you end up needing protection from.”

Xander gave a respectful nod. “I understand your skepticism. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same. But I want to earn your trust, sir. Not just for June’s sake but because if I’m going to be part of her family, I want to do it the right way.”

Richard studied him for a long moment.

“You’re a polished man, Xander. You say the right things. You wear the right watch. You look me in the eye and talk about ‘respect’ like it’s a business pitch. But marriage isn’t a merger.”

“I know that,” Xander said calmly.

“Do you?” Richard challenged. “Because my daughter isn’t an asset. She’s not an investment to manage or a reputation to fix. She’s a woman who’s learning to breathe again after nearly drowning.”

Xander’s smile faltered just a fraction—but he masked it well.

“I’m not here to own her,” he said. “I’m here to stand with her.”

Richard leaned forward.

“Good. Then do that. But hear me now if I ever get even a whisper of something off, of her being used, hurt, or lied to again I won’t be calling for a conversation.”

Xander gave a slow nod. “Understood, sir.”

The two men stared at one another for a moment longer an unspoken understanding forming in the tension.

Richard stood. “Walk with me.”

They strolled through the vineyard in silence, the air filled with the scent of earth and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. It was quiet. Honest. A kind of place where lies struggled to breathe.

When they returned to the porch, Richard looked at Xander again.

“You can tell June she has my support,” he said. “But not my silence. I’m watching.”

Xander smiled. “That’s all I ask, Mr. Williams.”

As he drove away later that afternoon, Xander sat back in the car, his smile fading.

Richard was sharper than expected.

He was no fool.

He’d have to tread more carefully now.

But June was already his. Legally, emotionally… and soon, financially.

One step closer.