An Iron-Body Fighter Told Single Mom "Your Punches Are Useless" — She Was Down, 6 Seconds Later He Regretted!
Chapter 35
Theme:
Font Size:
24px
Callie turns at the sound of the name, and the room seems to tilt slightly beneath her feet. Standing there at the edge of the stage is her father.He looks older than the photograph in her closet—grayer, more lined around the eyes—but there's no mistaking him: the same steady, patient way of watching a room that she's carried in her own bones her entire life without ever fully understanding where it came from."Dad." Her voice comes out smaller than she means it to.Thomas Reese climbs the two small steps onto the stage, slow and careful, his eyes never leaving his daughter's face. "I'm sorry it took me this long," he says, his voice rough with disuse and emotion both. "I told myself I was protecting you, staying away. Truth is, I think I was just protecting myself from having to explain what happened—from having to see the disappointment in your eyes.""I'm not disappointed," Callie says, tears breaking free, all the composure she's held on to for three years finally giving way. "I'm just glad you're here."He pulls her into an embrace that neither of them seems willing to end anytime soon, the whole town watching, many of them wiping their own eyes at the sight of it."I watched from the back of the room," Thomas says finally, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. "The whole thing. That combination—you threw it exactly the way I taught you all those years ago. Better, maybe.""Silas taught me again this week," Callie says. "Said you two used to work together on it.""Best 12 years of my life—most of them," Thomas says, glancing toward Silas with something like gratitude too large for words. "I owe that man more than I've ever properly said out loud.""You could start now," Silas says, though his voice is thick with emotion he's clearly trying to keep steady.Thomas laughs, short and rough, wiping quickly at his own eyes. "I suppose I could."Callie studies her father's face, searching it for all the years she missed: all the birthdays, and ordinary Tuesdays, and quiet evenings that should have belonged to both of them and didn't. "Where have you been all this time?""Not far, actually. A town about two hours north of here. Fixed cars for a living mostly. Kept to myself." He shakes his head slowly. "I told myself I was giving you room to build your own life away from my mistakes. Truth is, I think I was just too ashamed to watch you grow up knowing what this town believed about me.""I never believed it," Callie says. "Not really. I just didn't have the proof to say otherwise.""You've got it now." Thomas glances toward the laptop still glowing faintly on its stand, the footage that changed everything paused on the final frame. "Seems my daughter's better at finishing fights than I ever was.""Everett used to say something similar," Callie says quietly. "That the people who talk the least usually turn out to be the ones worth listening to most when they finally do speak."