Betty´s POV
The sun was annoyingly cheerful, casting everything in a warm, golden glow as I leaned back in the passenger seat of Dad’s old sedan. The windows were cracked just enough to let the crisp breeze swirl through the car, and the faint hum of the radio filled the gaps in our conversation. It wasn’t a bad day—one of those rare moments when nothing felt like it was pressing down on me, at least not completely.
Dad handed me a cup of coffee from the drive-thru, his grin mischievous. "Promise me you won’t spill this all over my car like you did when you were thirteen."
I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "That was your fault! Who hits a speed bump like that?"
"If I remember correctly," he said, chuckling as he shifted gears, "you were the one making me reach back for the fries you dropped."
"Details," I said with a dismissive wave, smirking.
It was rare for us to have a day like this—running errands, joking around, just being together without the usual weight of everything else. Usually, Dad was too busy juggling work, Stacey’s relentless drama, and the impossible task of keeping Jeanette happy. I wasn’t mad about it—at least, not anymore. I’d gotten used to being the one who didn’t need much. But today, it felt... nice.
Comfortable.
At a red light, Dad glanced over at me, and his expression softened in a way that immediately put me on edge.
"You know, Betty," he said, his tone quieter now, "you’ve been through a lot. More than most people your age."
I frowned slightly, sipping my coffee. "Where’s this going?"
He hesitated for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to the road as the light turned green. "I just want you to remember something," he said, his voice steady but gentle. "You’re strong. And you don’t have to let anyone dim your light. Not Stacey, not Marcus, not anyone."
The words hit a little too close, and I covered it with a snort, shaking my head. "Dad, you sound like one of Stacey’s inspirational posters. You know, the ones with glittery fonts and fake sunsets?"
He laughed, the kind of belly laugh that made me smile despite myself. "Maybe she’s rubbing off on me," he said, his grin widening.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.
***
We pulled into the parking lot of a hardware store, the car rumbling to a stop. I reached for the door handle, but Dad didn’t move to get out.
"Hey," he said, his voice more hesitant this time.
I paused, glancing over at him. "What’s up?"
He leaned back slightly, resting his hand on the steering wheel. "What do you think about picking up Stacey and taking her out for dinner tonight? Just us three—like old times."
His words hung in the air for a moment. I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. "Are you sure?" I asked finally, my voice cautious.
His smile was warm, his eyes kind. "Yeah, I’m sure. It’s been a while since it was just us. I think it’d be nice."
I stared down at my coffee cup, the warmth seeping into my palms. Memories of the three of us flashed through my mind—back when things were simpler, easier. Before Jeanette, before Marcus, before everything got so... complicated.
"Okay," I said softly, the word slipping out before I could second-guess it. "But no embarrassing stories."
Dad winked, already starting the car again. "No promises."
I couldn’t help but laugh. For the first time in a while, the tension in my chest loosened, just a little.