I was questioning my life choices, something I found myself doing all too often lately. I sat on the couch, across from my father, feeling like I was in some inquisition.

He kept asking questions and they would not stop coming. I was beyond using the 'I was at my girlfriend's place' excuse because, at this point, he wouldn’t believe it. Besides, there was a party tonight and he knew I was bringing a date.

I regretted telling him. Maybe it would have been better if I just surprised him. But it would also have been worse if he overreacted.

"Dad, do we really need to have this conversation?"

"Yeah, actually, we do. I hear nothing from you for weeks, and then suddenly you have a date? Where did he come from?"

I sighed, slumping where I sat sideways on the couch, a pillow underneath me against the arm of the couch, another held against my stomach, with my knees raised. I didn’t want to have this conversation, but he wouldn’t let me leave the room.

It probably didn’t help how I told him. He was busy eating when I went in and said a bunch of random stuff, dropping in that I would be bringing a date—an actual guy—to the celebration, hoping he wouldn't be awake enough to catch it right away. I should have known better. Even up this early in the morning, practically a zombie before two cups of strong coffee, his mind stayed sharp.

Why did I put off telling him, anyway? I couldn’t remember.

"Honey, please just tell me? Where you keep going, and this date for the anniversary party. Are they connected?"

He used that tone when he was trying to guilt me to admit I did something wrong. It was also the only time he called me honey. He stopped using endearments when I became a teenager and I felt I'd outgrown them, and even then, they were usually in Irish.

"Well," I muttered, wincing because I knew he wouldn’t like it. "It is." But I couldn’t keep lying if I wanted him to behave and be nice to Ronan when he came.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and he was staring intently at me. I grimaced and looked away.

"Well, tell me about him."

He worded it nicely but I knew it was a command.

"He's a good guy. He'd been good to me."

"Uh huh. Where did you meet him?"

Fuck. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that right in the beginning. My dad lied to me, plenty. But it was hard to tell him a lie and get away with it. Saying 'I slept over at a friend's, call so and so and she'll tell you' was technically not a lie. Even then, often, he usually made the call instead of taking my word for it. Lying point blank rarely worked.

Besides, I didn’t want to, even knowing he wouldn't like it.

"He's a motorbike racer. I met him a while ago when he won a race and he's actually pretty good, I don’t think I've seen him lose once."

I looked at him again, but it was clear to see he didn’t approve. I had expected it because Ronan wasn't the first biker I fell for. The last time ended in disaster.

"He sounds like some deadbeat."

"Dad, come on. Winning a bike race usually means winning something, part of the prize is money and it's quite a bit. He could have a good sum saved up if his winning streak keeps up." Ronan wasn’t the kind of guy that blew off his prize money, after all.

Dad ignored me.

"Tell me more about him."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew that tone. "More like what?"

"Full name, age, where he's ever worked, where he went to school if he did either. Whatever details you have."

"Dad—"

"I just need enough info to run a check on him."

"I'm not going to do that, you know I'm not going to do that."

"And why not?"

Besides the fact that I didn’t know all that much about him, to begin with, I didn’t want my father freaking him out when they met.

"Dad, we have been dating for weeks, Ronan is a simple guy. There is nothing wrong with him, why won't you believe me?"

"It's not that I don’t believe you, Teagan…"

"Look, Dad, I need you to be okay with this. Since my last boyfriend died, I have been grieving for the last two years. This is the first time I found love again. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

Was it too much to ask? I played the part of the lovely daughter, most of the time, particularly when he needed me to be.

He was there when my last boyfriend died, the biker that introduced me to the underground circuit in the first place. I met him when I was twenty and it was love for me. Dad didn’t like him, either, because he was a 'deadbeat biker.' Only he rarely ever won races. He was more in it for the fun, unlike Ronan who took everything seriously. We spent over a year together and I fantasized our wedding.

But then he died in an accident.

My dad had been there for the aftermath. I lived at home, so of course both my parents got to see that. I stopped going to school, wouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t even leave my room. I was a mess. When my parents blew up at me for my behavior, I left home.

I was technically a runaway, even though I was legal age. I couldn’t go to my friends because he'd find me, so I disappeared with some cash and spent time crashing around cheap motels. My father probably had people looking after me even then, but they left me alone. I went back home months later and my dad would have threatened to lock me up in the house if my mom hadn't intervened.

I was a mess. He knew that, but he didn’t seem to care.

"I am just looking out for what’s best for you. Yes, I remember how you were the last time, and I want you to be happy. But you can't just focus on now, you have to think of the future."

"I do think about my future. And you say you want the best for me, but I keep calling that into question. I am okay, I want you to be happy for me. More than that, I want you to stop trying to control my life. I am old enough to make my own decisions, number one, and I should be living on my own."

His expression soured. "Honey, you're 23."

"Wow, look at that. I'm old enough to drink alcohol legally. I'm pretty sure that also means I could live on my own, or at least away from my parents."

"Don’t be too hasty, okay? This boy sounds as if he's giving you bad ideas."

I glared over at him then glanced away guiltily. Confession time.

"It's not Ronan doing that, Dad. I just want my own space. I need to do more with my life than just hang around the house. I mean, I have a college degree, and what am I doing with it? I don’t need to look for a job because you insist on providing me with everything."

As much as it was appreciated, I was going to have to learn how to be independent somehow. All through college he had me go to a nearby school so he could hire a driver to pick me up and drop me off when I had classes. He had my schedule and made sure I accounted for the time I spent at school when it wasn’t marked on my schedule.

It was suffocating. It upset him when I brought it up, but then I wasn’t a child anymore and I didn’t like that he still treated me that way. He'd allowed me some freedom, after my 'rebellious phase' with my no-good boyfriend, but even then, there were strict rules.

"Teagan… can we please table this conversation? Don’t spoil the party tonight, at least wait until after to discuss it. Otherwise, your mom would be upset."

I knew his tactic; he was giving me time thinking I'd calm down and rethink things, mentioning my mother so I had reason to hesitate. He was also giving himself time to come up with a good argument, but I wasn't going to fall for it this time.

"Okay," I agreed.

I didn’t look at him as I said it. He knew I wasn’t happy. We sat in silence for a moment, until he wordlessly stood up and went back to the kitchen. Probably already building up his case.

But I wasn’t going to budge. There was always the possibility he'd try to lock me up again, leave me with no money, nothing, so I had no choice but to depend on them. But it wasn’t like I was helpless. I was a graduate, I had just never gotten a job before.

I was sure I could survive on my own. It would be worth it if I could stay with Ronan without having to answer to anyone.