The next morning felt calm—too calm.
Leo and I sat side by side on the old floral couch, the one with cushion dents from years of TV marathons and sleepy Sunday afternoons. Across from us sat my father, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, a look that could vaporize even the toughest negotiators.
Leo sat upright, his hands politely clasped over his lap like a noble knight being interrogated by the King. Only this king—Victor Violet—was skeptical, protective, and had mastered the art of silence warfare.
"I still don't get it," Dad muttered, eyeing Leo. "You're telling me you fell in love with my daughter just like that?"
Leo smiled patiently. "Not just like that, sir. She challenged me, made me laugh, and reminded me what it means to be human. And more importantly—she makes me want to be better."
My heart skipped a beat. I blushed.
Dad blinked. "Better at what? Filing taxes?"
"Better at everything," Leo said, his voice soft but certain.
Mom peeked in from the kitchen, holding a tray of snacks. "They're both cute. Let them breathe."
"No one asked you," Dad said flatly, but took a cookie anyway.
Just as I was about to thank Leo for surviving yet another wave of interrogation, the doorbell rang.
And there he was.
Zake.
My childhood best friend. The small-town golden boy. The certified doctor. The guy my dad had always adored like a second son.
"Zake!" Dad grinned wide, standing up with more energy than I'd seen in two days. "Now that's a man!"
Leo tensed beside me.
Zake walked in with his usual charm, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Heard you've been keeping secrets, Mel," he teased, pulling me into a quick hug. "An engagement, huh?"
"I was going to tell you," I said quickly, backing up before things got weird.
Zake turned to Leo, giving him a solid once-over. "So, you're the infamous CEO?"
"I suppose I am," Leo said, rising to his feet and offering his hand.
Zake shook it—firmly. Too firmly. The testosterone in the room practically became visible.
"Well," Dad clapped his hands together, "you've got competition now, Cyprus."
"Dad!" I snapped.
"What? I'm just saying. Leo here still needs to earn his place. Zake's been family for years. Leo's… what? A fancy businessman who just appeared out of nowhere."
Leo nodded, still composed. "Then let me earn it."
Zake chuckled. "You sure you're up for it?"
"I'm not going anywhere," Leo replied. "Melody is worth every challenge."
I nearly melted into the rug.
Dad narrowed his eyes. "We'll see."
For the rest of the day, Leo went through an unofficial "final trial." Helping Dad clean the garage, taste-testing Mom's three-alarm spicy kare-kare without flinching, and joining in a barbecue where Zake "accidentally" kept bringing up childhood memories with me.
"He used to call me 'Mel-Boo,'" Zake said with a grin, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "Right, Mel?"
Leo's jaw tightened. "That's cute."
"It was. Still is," Zake added, eyes on Leo like a rival in a k-drama showdown.
Leo remained polite. Patient. Unwavering.
But when Zake tried to get me to do our old inside joke handshake, and Dad laughed along like it was a romantic comedy they were both starring in—I snapped.
"Okay, enough!" I stood, glaring at both of them. "This isn't funny anymore. Zake, you're being ridiculous. And Dad—you're being unfair!"
Their grins faltered.
"Leo has done nothing but try his best to respect this family. He's been kind, honest, and patient. You keep pushing him like he's a villain in your fantasy. Well, he's not. He's mine. And if you can't see that, then maybe you both need to grow up."
The silence was absolute. Even the dog didn't bark.
Leo gently reached out and took my hand, his expression touched and steady. "You didn't have to say that… but I'm glad you did."
Dad looked down, guilt creeping onto his face.
Zake scratched his head, clearly caught off guard. "Mel… I wasn't trying to—"
"Make him jealous?" I said. "Well, congratulations. You did. And you disappointed me."
Dad and Zake exchanged glances. And for the first time, I saw a flicker of understanding—maybe even regret.
Would you like me to continue with the scene where they try to apologize or make peace with Leo? Or should we fast-forward to a moment of unexpected bonding?
The weight of it all settled in my chest like a knot.
I looked at Leo — still standing, still smiling that patient, kind smile — and I felt my heart twist. Even after everything… he just took it. Every jab. Every trial. Every backhanded compliment. Without complaint.
"Why don't you fight back?" I blurted, my voice sharper than I intended. "Why do you just stand there and let them treat you like this? Don't you get tired of proving yourself?!"
Leo's eyes widened. Everyone else stared in stunned silence.
Zake stepped back. Dad blinked.
But I couldn't stop. "You just—take it all! You never snap, never get mad, never say a word! It's like you don't even care how unfair they're being. How I feel stuck in the middle of it. Aren't you mad?!"
Leo opened his mouth, but I'd already turned around.
"I need air," I muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the warm dusk, my chest tight and eyes already glassy with tears.
I walked fast, down the little gravel path behind the house, until the old shed came into view. I stopped there, near the fence, wiping my cheeks and hating how my voice cracked back in the living room.
A moment later, I heard rushed footsteps crunching gravel.
"Melody!"
I didn't turn around.
Leo slowed as he approached. "Mel… I'm sorry."
I sniffled and folded my arms, still not looking at him. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."
"I should've said something," he said quietly. "I just thought… if I held on long enough, your dad would see that I'm serious. That I love you. That I'm not going anywhere."
He gently reached out, touching my shoulder. I didn't pull away.
"I wasn't trying to be a doormat. I was just… afraid. Afraid if I pushed too hard, I'd make things worse for you."
I slowly turned to him, my eyes teary.
"And now I made it worse," I mumbled. "I yelled. I walked out. I made a scene in front of everyone."
Leo reached out and cupped my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing under my eyes.
"I'd rather you yell and cry than hold it in and smile like nothing's wrong," he whispered. "You can scream at me all day if it means I get to hold you afterward."
I let out a watery laugh.
"You're so annoying," I whispered.
"Most people prefer the word 'persistent,'" he replied, pulling me closer.
I leaned my forehead against his chest and sighed. "I just want them to understand… how much you mean to me."
"They will," he said gently. "Eventually. But for now… let's just breathe."
And we stood there, wrapped in each other's warmth, the stars blinking into view above us while the chaos of expectations faded into the background — at least for a while.
By the time we walked back to the house, the stars had begun to scatter across the indigo sky, and the hum of cicadas was the only sound brave enough to fill the stillness.
Leo held my hand firmly, like he'd never let go — not after tonight.
As we stepped onto the porch, the front door creaked open.
Dad stood there, stiff as ever, but something in his eyes was different this time. Less judgment. More… worry.
Zake was beside him, arms crossed, brows furrowed with tension.
Their postures were rigid, but the moment they saw us—saw me, eyes red and cheeks still blotchy—their shoulders eased.
I braced for another awkward silence.
Instead, Dad cleared his throat. "Leo."
Leo straightened beside me, but didn't let go of my hand.
Dad took a slow breath. "Would you come with me for a moment? To my study."
I opened my mouth, unsure if I wanted to interrupt or defend Leo again, but Leo squeezed my hand reassuringly.
"It's okay," he murmured to me, then nodded to my dad. "Of course, sir."
Dad gave a subtle glance toward Zake, who looked like he wanted to protest but didn't. Instead, he silently turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door open behind him.
I stood frozen by the entryway, watching them disappear down the hallway—the soft thud of the study door closing like the start of a final exam.
My heart drummed in my chest. I didn't know what was going to happen in there. A warning? A last threat? An awkward attempt at a truce?
I hovered in the living room, pacing a little, chewing the inside of my cheek. Mom passed by with a tray of sliced garlic bread and eyed me knowingly.
"They'll be fine," she said lightly. "Your dad just… needs to hear himself talk sometimes before he actually listens."
I offered a half-smile, not convinced.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
I had just started counting the cracks in the living room tiles when I heard the study door open again. I rushed toward the hallway—but stopped short when I saw them both step into view.
Dad looked… serious. But not angry. Not cold. Just quiet.
Leo walked beside him with his usual calm grace, but something flickered in his eyes—like he had faced a dragon and survived.
Dad turned to me. "Melody."
"Yes?"
He glanced at Leo, then back at me. "We talked."
I swallowed. "And…?"
Dad hesitated, then nodded once.
Leo looked at me, smiling softly. "We're good."
It felt like the weight of a mountain rolled off my shoulders.