When my Daughter Ch 17

Chapter 17 

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“Would you,” I asked, my lips curving into the faintest, most fragile smile, “like to go on a date with me?” 

The words slipped out before I could second–guess myself. They lingered in the air between us, trembling like glass on the edge of shattering. 

Martin froze. For a man who always had something cocky or sharp on his tongue, he looked–stunned. His brows arched, his lips parting as though he hadn’t heard me correctly. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“A date?” His voice dripped with amusement, disbelief. “You–you’re asking me on a date? Did I fall asleep at my desk and dream this?” 

Heat crept up my cheeks, but I lifted my chin, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “If you don’t want to, then don’t.” I shrugged, pretending it didn’t sting. “Forget I said anything.” 

Martin’s laughter softened into something gentler. He leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting. “No, no, I was kidding. Of course I want to. I just… never thought I’d hear you ask it.” 

I 

“Why?” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Is it that strange?” 

“Coming from you? The same Emerald who used to threaten to stab me with her pen during classes? Who said she’d never waste her time with a man like me?” He smirked. “Yeah, it’s strange.” 

I rolled my eyes, though the memory made me bite back a reluctant smile. “You deserved it 

back then.” 

“I probably did,” he admitted easily. Then, after a pause, his voice dropped lower. “But I’ll take it. I’ll take this date. Just… don’t change your mind before it happens.” 

“Fine,” I said, suddenly lighter than I had felt in years. “Let’s see each other again. Tomorrow night.” 

The following day was filled with nervous energy I hadn’t felt since I was a girl. Gwen noticed, of course. 

“Mama, why are you smiling so much?” she asked, tilting her head as she hugged her doll. I kissed the top of her hair. “Because… sometimes it feels nice to smile again.” 

She seemed satisfied with that answer, though my heart knew better. The truth was–I was terrified. Terrified of moving forward, of letting myself hope. But when I thought of Martin’s grin, the way his laughter always broke through my defenses, I couldn’t stop the warmth. spreading through me. 

That evening, I chose a soft blue dress–not fancy, but one that made me feel like myself. I braided my hair loosely, letting the rest tumble down my shoulders. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman who had been broken, but who was still standing. Still capable of something new. 

The place he had chosen surprised me. It wasn’t a restaurant or some extravagant display 

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ས ° 66% ̈ The place he had chosen surprised me. It wasn’t a restaurant or some extravagant display of wealth I half–expected from Martin. Instead, it was a quiet park on the edge of the city, where the hum of traffic was distant and the grass stretched wide under the open sky. 

He had laid out a picnic blanket, simple yet thoughtful, with a basket beside it. Lanterns hung from the branches of a nearby tree, casting a soft golden glow. 

“Martin,” I whispered, struck. “You… did all this?” 

He gave a half–shrug, half–smile. “What? Did you think I’d just drag you to some bar? This is a date, Emerald. I wanted it to matter.” 

My throat tightened, but I laughed to hide it. “For a playboy, you’re surprisingly romantic.” 

He chuckled, settling down on the blanket. “Don’t ruin my reputation. Sit. Eat.” 

Inside the basket were sandwiches, fruit, and even a small bottle of wine. We ate and talked, the air filled with easy banter. 

“Remember when you spilled coffee on my presentation in college?” I teased. 

His eyes widened before he laughed. “You still remember that? You glared at me like you 

wanted me dead.” 

“I did,” I admitted with a smirk. “I thought you ruined my chance to win. But then you helped me redo the slides in less than an hour.” 

“And 

you still beat me,” he said, pretending to sulk. 

“You let me,” I accused. 

“Maybe I did.” His eyes softened as they lingered on me. “I always liked seeing you win.” 

The words made my heart skip. For a moment, I forgot the years, the pain, the shadows of loss. For a moment, I felt like a woman sitting under the stars, sharing food and laughter with a man who looked at me like I was worth the world. 

As night deepened, the sky unfurled its canvas of stars above us. Gwen had already fallen asleep earlier with my sister, so tonight was just ours. The quiet wrapped around us like a 

cocoon. 

Martin lay back on the blanket, his arms folded behind his head. “You know,” he said, gazing at the stars, “I never thought I’d have this. Not with you.” 

I hesitated, then lay beside him. “Neither did I.” 

For a long moment, we were silent, watching the constellations shimmer. Then, without looking at me, he said softly, “Emerald… I don’t want to push you. But I need you to know–l don’t see you as the broken woman who was left behind. I see you as the woman who survived. And God, you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.” 

The sincerity in his voice cracked something open in me. I turned toward him, my chest tightening. “Martin…” 

He finally looked at me. His eyes caught the light of the lanterns, warm and unguarded. 

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Neither of us moved at first. The world seemed to hold its breath. Then, almost instinctively, my hand brushed against his. His fingers closed around mine–firm, steady. 

And when he leaned in, closing the distance, I didn’t stop him. 

Our lips met under the night sky, gentle at first, then deeper, more certain. The stars blurred, the world faded, until there was only the heat of his mouth, the safety of his touch, and the terrifying, breathtaking truth blooming inside me. 

For the first time in so long, I allowed myself to feel. 

And in that kiss, I realized–I wanted more. 

Chapter 17