Chapter Forty-Two: Stand Your Ground
1470 Words
Marcus's POV
I hear my father’s voice before I see him.
That measured, deliberate tone—the one he uses when he wants control without raising it. It cuts through the air sharper than any whistle on the ice.
“Even if that means losing what family he has left?”
My feet stop moving.
I’m at the edge of the quad, having just come out of a meeting with my coach and the coach for the Hawks, my mind already half on Anna and the way she’d sounded in her text earlier—tight, like she was bracing for something. I’d meant to find her. To check in.
Instead, I find this.
Anna stands facing my father and Bella, her shoulders squared, chin lifted. She looks small compared to him—not physically, but in the way the world has always bent to his will and never bothered to make room for hers.
Except she’s not bending.
Something fierce and terrifying twists in my chest.
I don’t step forward. Not yet. I need to hear this.
“Yes,” Anna says, her voice steady in a way I recognize immediately. It’s the voice she uses when she’s afraid but refuses to be ruled by it. “Even then.”
My father’s expression barely shifts, but I know him well enough to see the tension tightening his jaw.
“You’d be willing to cost him his family? After what he's already lost because of you?” he asks.
Cost him.
Like I’m a transaction. Like my life is a ledger.
Anna doesn’t flinch. “I would never want that for him. And his mother....”
“You don't speak for her,” he says coolly. "You stand here thinking you know my boy."
The words land like a slap.
I feel anger surge hot and fast, but beneath it—something else. Pride. A dangerous, swelling pride.
“Here I am,” Anna says, meeting him head-on, “refusing to believe that love and ambition have to be enemies.”
Bella shifts beside him, clearly pleased with herself, like she orchestrated this moment just to watch it burn.
“You’re young,” my father says. “You think feelings outweigh legacy.”
Anna’s answer is immediate. “I think legacy means nothing if it crushes the person carrying it.”
My chest tightens.
That’s it. That’s the line.
That’s the thing I’ve never had the words for.
I step forward then, my boots crunching softly against the gravel path.
“Dad.”
Three heads turn at once.
Anna’s breath catches when she sees me. Relief flashes across her face, followed immediately by concern—like she’s worried I’ll walk into this already wounded.
Bella stiffens.
My father’s gaze sharpens. “Marcus.”
I move to stand beside Anna, close enough that our arms brush. I don’t touch her—not yet—but the proximity is intentional. A line drawn.
“What’s going on?” I ask, even though I already know.
Bella opens her mouth. “I was just—”
“I didn’t ask you,” I say, not raising my voice, but not softening it either.
Her lips snap shut.
My father studies me, disappointment already simmering beneath his calm exterior. “We were having a conversation.”
“With my girlfriend,” I reply. “About me.”
Anna glances at me, eyes searching. I give her a small nod—I’ve got this.
“Bella seems to think,” my father continues, “that you’re being pulled off course.”
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “Bella doesn’t get a vote.”
“This isn’t about her,” he snaps. “This is about your future.”
“No,” I say firmly. “This is about your version of my future.”
The air goes tight.
Anna’s fingers brush my hand, tentative. I lace my fingers through hers, grounding myself.
“I didn’t raise you to throw away your family for a girl,” my father says.
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Good. Because that’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what do you call this?” he demands, gesturing between Anna and me.
“I call it choosing honesty,” I reply. “Something we’ve been avoiding for a long time.”
Bella scoffs. “This is exactly what I warned you about.”
I turn to her slowly. “You warned me about losing control. Not about losing myself.”
She pales slightly.
My father exhales, rubbing a hand over his temple. “You’re being emotional.”
“Yes,” I say simply. “I am.”
Anna’s grip tightens on my hand.
“And I’m done pretending that’s a weakness.”
Silence stretches.
“You think this ends well?” my father asks. “You think defying everything that’s been built for you won’t have consequences?”
“I know it will,” I reply. “But I also know what happens if I don’t.”
He waits.
“I become someone I don’t recognize,” I finish. “Someone who wins on paper and loses everywhere else.”
His jaw clenches.
“You’re choosing her,” he says flatly.
I shake my head. “I’m choosing me. She just happens to be someone who refuses to let me disappear.”
Anna turns to me, eyes shining, and I squeeze her hand gently.
“You’re asking me to watch you throw away opportunity,” my father says.
“No,” I counter. “I’m asking you to trust that I know what I’m doing with my own life.”
Bella steps forward, voice sharp. “You’re letting her pit you against your family.”
I round on her. “Stop speaking like I’m not standing right here.”
She flinches.
“I’m not a pawn,” I continue. “I’m not a prize. And I’m definitely not yours to manage.”
My father holds up a hand again, silencing her.
He looks at Anna. Really looks at her.
“You’re very certain,” he says.
“Yes,” she replies without hesitation.
“About him?” he presses.
“About his strength,” she answers. “And his right to choose.”
Something unreadable flickers across my father’s face.
“This path won’t be easy,” he says to me. “There will be distance. Strain. Loss.”
“I know,” I say. “But it’ll be mine.”
Another beat.
Then he nods once, sharp and decisive. “We’ll talk later.”
He turns and walks away.
Bella hesitates, eyes darting between us. “This isn’t over,” she mutters, then follows him, heels clicking angrily against the path.
The quad feels eerily quiet once they’re gone.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Anna turns to me immediately. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For being the spark,” she says softly. “For making things harder.”
I shake my head, lifting our joined hands between us. “You didn’t make this harder. You made it unavoidable.”
Her eyes fill, but she blinks the tears back.
“You shouldn’t have had to defend me,” I add. “Or yourself.”
“I wasn’t defending myself,” she says quietly. “I was defending you.”
My chest aches.
I pull her into my arms, holding her there in the middle of the quad, consequences and expectations be damned. She presses her face into my shoulder, breathing me in like she needs proof I’m real.
“I heard everything,” I murmur into her hair. “Every word.”
“Are you okay?” she asks, voice muffled.
I think about my father’s face. Bella’s smug certainty. The future that’s always been laid out in front of me like a track I never chose.
Then I think about standing on the ice, lungs burning, heart alive. About Anna’s laugh. Her belief. The way she sees me.
“Yes,” I say finally. “I am.”
She pulls back, studying me. “You’re sure?”
I nod. “I don’t want a life that costs me myself. Or you.”
Her lips tremble into a smile. “Good.”
I brush my thumb under her eye, wiping away a tear she didn’t quite catch. “No matter what happens next—no matter who pushes back—I’m not letting anyone turn you into the enemy of my future.”
She leans into my touch. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We will,” I agree.
As we walk away together, I know one thing with absolute certainty:
For the first time, the path ahead is terrifying.
And it’s mine.
- Writer
