Undressed By His Arrogance

"You opened the door too," Sam pointed out smugly, clearly enjoying himself.

"I can’t even with you," Irene said, shaking her head.

Before Sam could make another quip, the low purr of an engine interrupted them. Irene turned toward the driveway as Evans’s car rolled through the gates.

"Oh, thank God," Irene breathed, pressing a hand to her chest.

Sam scoffed beside Irene.

Evans parked the car and the tall man stepped out. "Hey, Dad!" Evans called.

Sam squinted toward him, unimpressed. "You’re the surprise? What am I supposed to do, applaud?"

Irene turned to Evans, exasperated, then threw her hands up in a silent "see what I have to deal with?" gesture.

Evans ignored him and opened the trunk, pulling out a wheelchair with a casual efficiency that immediately set Sam off.

"Over my dead body!" Sam thundered, cane slamming lightly against the porch. "I am not getting in that thing. I can walk!"

The sheer indignation in his voice would’ve been comical if it weren’t so heartfelt. Irene bit her lip to stifle her laugh.

"Will you calm down, Sam?" she said. "No one’s putting you in a wheelchair."

Sam huffed, refusing to be soothed. "Then what the hell is it for? You trying to roll me off into the sunset?"

"Does impatience come with old age?" Irene teased. "Because if it does, I don’t plan on getting old then."

Sam gave her a side glance, his lips twitching despite himself. "Don’t flatter yourself. You’re halfway there already."

Before Irene could come up with a comeback, Evans opened the car door.

He reached in and helped someone out. The moment the soft click of the door echoed across the driveway, Sam’s body went still beside Irene. His hand clenched tighter around his cane, breath catching in his throat.

Mary.

The years had changed her. Her once-dark hair now glimmered with silver.

Mary balanced herself on her feet and waved off the wheelchair. "Forget it, Evans," she said.

Evans gave her a look that said he didn’t approve but obeyed anyway. Mary leaned on his arm instead, using him as her anchor. Step by slow step, she moved toward Sam, her gaze locked on him the entire way.

Sam didn’t breathe. His heart hammered so loudly he could hear it in his ears.

Sam’s world stilled in that moment. "It’s her..." he whispered. "It’s... it’s my baby. You found her?"

"Oooh, it gets even better," Irene said with a knowing smile. She slid a steady arm under his, guiding him gently down the porch steps.

Normally, Sam would have barked at her to let him walk on his own—"I’m not a damn invalid," he’d always growl—but this time, he said nothing. His knees felt weak, and for once, he was grateful for her support. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Mary’s eyes glistened with tears, her lips trembling as she whispered, "Dad." Just one word, yet it broke through the years of distance, shame, and silence that had kept them apart.

His face softened—deep lines of anger and age suddenly melting away. "Baby?"

Mary nodded, her smile fragile but real. "I’d hug you, but..." She gave a weak laugh, one hand gesturing to Evans’s steadying arm. "I can’t stand by myself yet."

Sam turned toward Evans then, his throat tightening. "How..." His eyes, glassy and wet, searched his son’s face for an explanation that could make sense of this impossible miracle.

Evans shrugged lightly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Long story," he said. And it was—but in that moment, no one needed details. Just the sight of father and daughter reunited was enough.

"You left," Sam murmured, stepping closer. The years of suppressed hurt bled into every word. "You broke my heart." His hand rose—hesitant, trembling—and cupped her cheek. "You took my words so much to heart that you left me."

Mary’s eyes welled. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I couldn’t marry who you wanted for me."

"You could have told me!" Sam snapped.

"I tried, Dad. I tried," she said softly, a tear spilling down her cheek. "But you wouldn’t listen back then."

Finally, Evans stepped forward, clearing his throat with a smile that didn’t quite mask his emotion. "We can play catch-up later," he said, "but I still have one more surprise."

Sam blinked at him, brow furrowing through the blur of tears. "One more what? Evans, my heart’s about to give out already!"

Evans just smirked. "Oh, you’ll want to stay alive for this one."

Sam turned his gaze toward the car. Irene made her way to the other side of the vehicle. The door opened with a soft click, and for a moment, all anyone saw was the sweep of blond hair and the hesitant movement of a woman gathering courage.

Then Ivy stepped out.

Sam’s confusion deepened. "Who... who’s this?" he asked, looking between Evans and Irene. But Evans didn’t answer. His gaze was on Ivy—gentle, proud, protective.

Mary’s lips curved into a knowing smile. "That," she said softly, "is my daughter. Your granddaughter."

Sam gasped as if the years had been punched out of his chest. His hand trembled slightly, reaching out in disbelief. "Come here, love. Let me look at you." Irene guided Ivy forward gently, her hand steady on the younger woman’s elbow. Sam’s eyes darted from her face to Mary’s, and the joy that had briefly lifted his features began to falter.

His brow creased with concern. "What... what’s wrong? What happened to you both?"

Mary forced a small smile. "Just an accident," she said quickly.

Sam exhaled heavily and rubbed his face with one hand, whispering, "Oh God..."

Then Ivy stepped closer, her body still weak from recovery. "I guess you’re my grandpa," she said softly, a hint of teasing in her tone.

Sam blinked, then laughed. "Yes... yes, child. I am!" His laughter turned into a joyous bark. "I have two granddaughters! Ah!" He held her hand with both of his. Tears spilled freely now, but his smile didn’t fade. He turned toward Evans. "Thank you, son."