FALLING FOR MY DAD'S BEST FRIEND

Chapter One Ugh, Lina couldn’t believe She actually had to walk to school that day. The sun was ruthless, and all she could think about was how easily this class could have been online. Money was tight, as always, and my stomach twisted remembering how much she still needed. I had my phone in my hand, scrolling mindlessly—not because there was anything interesting, but because it was easier than meeting people’s eyes. On campus, everyone is struggling in the same way, yet somehow still judging each other. She tried to disappear behind the screen, pretending she was not just another broke girl hoping the day would pass quietly. She was not looking up when—bam! She walked straight into someone. “Ah—sorry—” she blurted, stepping back too quickly, nearly tripping over my own foot. For a second, everything felt loud. People slowed down. Some stopped. Curious eyes flicked our way, like this tiny accident had suddenly become the main event. Heat rushed to my face, crawling up my neck, making me want to vanish. She finally looked up. A guy. She didn’t know him. Not at all. But my eyes betrayed me. First, the phone—sleek, shiny, probably an iPhone 15 Pro Max or something equally ridiculous. My stomach twisted, irritation mixing with a strange, fluttering curiosity She could not name. He was still looking at her—not staring, not smiling too much—just calm and unreadable, like he had noticed something and decided to keep it to himself. A flicker passed through his eyes—interest? curiosity? Or maybe she was just imagining it. She shoved my phone into my pocket, suddenly too aware of myself and the stares around us. “I’m… sorry,” she muttered again, my ears burning, and hurried away, replaying his look in my head with every step. That evening, stretched out on my bed, she let her thoughts drift back to him. His ease. That phone. The way he existed like life had never pressed too hard on his shoulders. If she was honest, he felt like a gold mine. She wondered if she'd see him again. She wondered if, for once, life might finally be good to me. She did not know then that what she felt wasn’t luck. It was the beginning of trouble.Lina learned early that silence could be loud. It followed her everywhere—into lecture halls buzzing with careless laughter, into the dorm corridors that smelled of cheap perfume and instant noodles, into the small spaces between breaths where thoughts became too heavy to ignore. She had mastered the art of existing without being noticed. Head down. Earphones in. A hoodie even when the sun was unforgiving. Campus was supposed to feel like freedom. That’s what everyone said. To Lina, it felt like being dropped into deep water and told to swim without being taught how. She sat on the concrete steps outside the Faculty of Arts, balancing a notebook on her knees, pretending to revise. The words blurred together. Her pen hovered uselessly above the page. Around her, life happened loudly—students arguing about politics, couples whispering secrets, a group of girls laughing too hard like they were afraid silence might expose them. She wasn’t part of any of it. Her phone vibrated. Dad: Are you free this afternoon? I’ll be around campus. Lina frowned. Her father rarely came to campus unless it was important. Or unless he was trying—awkwardly—to be present in her life again after years of absence disguised as work. She typed back. Lina: I have lectures till four. A pause. Then— Dad: I’ll wait. I want you to meet someone. That made her stomach tighten. Meet someone usually meant one of two things: a colleague who would shake her hand too firmly and comment on how grown she looked, or a well-meaning friend who would ask uncomfortable questions about her mother. She sighed, shoved her notebook into her bag, and stood just as the bell rang. By four-thirty, the campus had softened. The heat retreated, replaced by a lazy breeze that rustled trees and skirts. Lina spotted her father near the parking lot, leaning against a black SUV that did not belong to him. He looked older than she remembered. Or maybe she was just noticing it now—the grey threading his hair, the careful way he shifted his weight as if his body reminded him daily of time passing. And beside him— Lina slowed. The man stood tall, hands in his pockets, dressed casually but expensively. Nothing flashy. Just… controlled. Like someone who didn’t need to prove anything. When he turned, their eyes met. And something in Lina’s chest misfired. It wasn’t attraction—she was sure of that. It was awareness. Sharp and unwelcome. The kind that made her suddenly conscious of her posture, her breathing, the way her fingers curled around her bag strap. “This is Lina,” her father said, smiling too brightly. “My daughter.” The man’s gaze didn’t linger, but it didn’t rush either. Calm. Assessing. Polite. “Nice to meet you, Lina,” he said. His voice was low, steady. “I’m Daniel.” She shook his hand. His palm was warm. Firm, but not crushing. “Dad’s friend,” her father added quickly. “We’ve worked together for years.” Years. Daniel nodded. “She has your eyes.” Her father laughed, pleased. Lina pulled her hand back, unsettled by how something so simple—a comment, a look—had shifted the air around her. “Let’s get something to eat,” her father said. “My treat.” They sat at a quiet café just outside campus. Lina chose the chair farthest from Daniel without making it obvious. She focused on her drink, stirring it too much, while the two men talked about business, contracts, things she didn’t understand and didn’t want to. Yet she listened. Not to the words—but to the rhythm of Daniel’s voice. He didn’t speak often, but when he did, her father listened. People always did, she noticed. There was authority in him that didn’t ask for attention—it assumed it. “So,” her father said, turning to her. “How’s campus?” “Fine,” Lina replied automatically. Daniel’s eyes flicked to her face, like he could hear the lie wrapped neatly inside that one word. “What are you studying?” he asked. “Literature.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “Dangerous field.” She blinked. “Why?” “Words shape how people think. Most don’t realize that until it’s too late.” She hadn’t expected that answer. Her father chuckled. “Always dramatic, this one.” But Lina felt something settle inside her, something uncomfortably close to being seen. When it was time to leave, her father got a call and stepped away. Lina stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I should go,” she said. Daniel nodded. “I’ll walk you back. It’s getting dark.” She hesitated. “It’s okay—” “It’s not a question,” he said gently. They walked in silence along the campus path. The lights flickered on, one by one. Students passed them, some glancing curiously at the strange pairing. “You don’t like crowds,” Daniel said suddenly. She stopped. “What?” “You keep to the edges. You scan exits. You speak like you’re apologizing for existing.” Her heart slammed against her ribs. “I—” “I’m not criticizing,” he added. “Just observing.” No one observed her. Not like that. She swallowed. “You don’t know me.” “No,” he agreed. “But I know patterns.” They resumed walking. The silence between them was heavier now. Charged. At the entrance to her hostel, she stopped. “This is fine.” Daniel nodded. “Your father worries about you.” She let out a humorless laugh. “That’s new.” “He’s bad at showing it,” Daniel said. “But he tries.” She looked at him then. Really looked. There was something restrained about him. Like a door permanently half-closed. “Goodnight, Lina.” “Goodnight.” She watched him walk away until he disappeared into the dark. That night, Lina lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She told herself she was overthinking. That Daniel was just another adult in her father’s orbit. That the tight feeling in her chest meant nothing. Still, when she closed her eyes, she heard his voice again. You speak like you’re apologizing for existing. No one had ever said that to her before. And no one had ever been that right