Chapter 239: Her Forgiveness
Samantha eventually gathered enough courage and walked toward Catherine.
Catherine noticed her approaching almost immediately. She looked up from where she was sitting near the smoker and smiled warmly, as though nothing awkward had passed between them at all.
Before Samantha could say anything, she noticed Maximilian.
He had been standing behind Catherine, listening to Bobby argue with several relatives over brisket etiquette. The moment Samantha approached, however, something subtly changed. His posture straightened. His attention sharpened. It was not obvious enough for most people to notice, but Samantha did.
He was preparing himself.
Not for a fight, necessarily, but for the possibility that Catherine might need him.
So... he knows.
The realization settled quietly in her mind.
Of course he knew. If there was one person in the world who knew exactly how hurt she had been by that phone call, it would be him.
Samantha stopped in front of them and rubbed the back of her neck.
"Here to apologize," she said.
Maximilian studied her for a brief moment.
Then, without making things uncomfortable, he simply nodded. He gently patted Catherine’s back before rising from his chair.
"I’ll leave you two to it."
As he walked away, Samantha watched him disappear toward the cooler where her uncles were engaged in a heated debate about beer.
"I can see why you love him," she said.
Catherine’s eyebrows rose slightly.
Samantha glanced toward Maximilian.
"He’s protective of you, but not in a suffocating way. He pays attention, but he doesn’t hover. He gives you space." She shook her head. "He’s the right balance."
A soft smile appeared on Catherine’s face.
Her eyes drifted toward Maximilian almost unconsciously before returning to Samantha.
"He is."
There was a warmth in her voice that Samantha had rarely heard before.
A quiet certainty.
Catherine knew what it felt like to be loved in a way that consumed. To have affection twisted into possession and concern become control. Because of that, she appreciated Maximilian’s love all the more. He never treated her as something fragile to be hidden away. He trusted her judgment, respected her choices, and stood beside her whenever she needed him.
The realization made her smile deepen.
"He’s..." Catherine paused before reaching for Samantha’s hand. "When a man truly loves a woman, there is very little he won’t do to make her happy."
Samantha listened quietly.
"Sammy," Catherine continued gently, "you’re an amazing person. You’ll find someone too."
To her own horror, Samantha felt her eyes sting. She had come over intending to apologize. Instead, Catherine was comforting her.
Again.
"I wanted to apologize, but you..."
Her voice trailed off.
Catherine didn’t make her finish. She simply stood and pulled Samantha into a hug.
"All right," Catherine said softly. "Everyone’s watching."
Samantha laughed despite the tears threatening her eyes.
"Let’s talk later."
"Let’s talk later," Catherine agreed.
In the distance, Maximilian observed the scene while pretending not to.
He shook his head. At the same time, a smile tugged at his lips.
Catherine truly loved her family. Sometimes more than they deserved.
She forgave so easily that it occasionally frustrated him, though he would never admit it aloud. Then again, she had forgiven him of all people. She had chosen to trust him, chosen to love him, and somehow agreed to spend the rest of her life with him despite everything that had happened between them.
He certainly wasn’t complaining.
A few minutes later, Bobby finally declared the brisket sufficiently rested.
The announcement triggered immediate chaos. Family members descended upon the food as though they had survived a famine. The orderly lines Catherine had attempted to establish lasted less than thirty seconds.
Soon, the familiar Preston family ruckus was in full swing.
Catherine found herself seated beside her father during dinner. As always, she quietly took charge of his plate, selecting the best pieces of meat for him while carefully monitoring both his alcohol intake and the amount of fat he consumed.
James noticed immediately.
"Dad," Catherine warned as he reached for another drink.
"I was only looking at it."
"You were reaching for it."
"I wasn’t."
"You were."
James looked offended.
His daughter remained completely unconvinced.
Several seats away, Bobby snorted into his beer.
James ignored him and attempted a different strategy.
While Catherine became distracted answering a question from Miranda, he quietly reached for the whiskey glass.
A hand intercepted him before his fingers touched it.
James sighed. Then he looked at Catherine. She was already staring at him.
"Dad."
The single word carried enough authority to stop a grown man in his tracks. James reluctantly withdrew his hand.
Across the table, several relatives immediately burst into laughter.
"You’re seventy-four years old and still getting disciplined," one cousin said.
James pointed at Catherine. "That’s because she runs this family like a tiny dictator."
Catherine calmly removed the whiskey from his reach. The table erupted into even louder laughter.
And despite everything that had happened over the past few weeks, the sound felt wonderfully normal.
As the evening wore on, the gathering settled into the familiar rhythm of a Preston family celebration. There were drunken stories that became more exaggerated with every retelling, music blasting from speakers someone had dragged outside, and couples finding space to dance beneath the warm night sky.
The scent of smoked brisket still lingered in the air, mixing with laughter and alcohol until the entire evening felt wrapped in a haze of comfort and familiarity.
Catherine swayed gently in Maximilian’s arms as they danced. He had long since stopped questioning the strange traditions of her family and had instead resigned himself to observing and surviving them.
For a few peaceful minutes, everything seemed perfect.
Then a table flipped.
The loud crash cut through the music like a gunshot. Every conversation stopped. Every head turned.
"Say that again, knucklehead!"
Bobby was on his feet, staggering slightly from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. Across from him stood his youngest son, equally stubborn and apparently possessing far less survival instinct than good sense.
The entire family fell silent, not because they were worried, because they wanted to watch.
"Stop it, Dad! You’re embarrassing yourself!" Bobby Jr. shouted back.
Sophia immediately grabbed Bobby’s arm, trying to pull him back into his chair.
"Bobby, sit down."
Unfortunately, Bobby had already entered a state where reason no longer applied. "You talk back to my wife like that while you’re under my roof?" he shouted.
"What are you going to do about it, Dad?" Bobby Jr. shot back. "Ground me again?"
The challenge carried all the confidence and poor judgment usually associated with teenage boys.
Catherine immediately started laughing. Leaning closer to Maximilian, she lowered her voice. "Aww. The boy’s trying to grow up."
Maximilian glanced at her.
"He is?"
"Oh yes." Catherine’s smile widened. "Little does he realize he might not be a little boy anymore, but he certainly isn’t a man. And he’s definitely not man enough to challenge his father."
Maximilian watched the confrontation with growing concern.
A son openly challenging his father.
A drunken father accepting the challenge.
An entire family quietly observing.
None of this seemed remotely healthy.
"What happens now?" he asked.