"Well I have to say, David, this meal is just delicious," her mom told him from across the table before she wiped her mouth on the gray linen napkin. "I think you might be in the wrong business."

David smiled warmly at her mom. "I've been thinkin' the same thing."

"Owning a bar and owning a restaurant are two very different things," her dad chimed in, remaining ever the critic. "The startup costs can be astronomical. Add that to the building itself, insurance costs, employees... You'd be surprised on how fast it can add up. Unless you have a spare half million or more laying around, you'd need a bank loan-"

"Three," David said a bit randomly before taking a bite of his chicken wellington.

"Pardon?"

"I have a spare three million."

"Sweetheart," her mom began, placing her hand on Hannah's arm. "Are you dating a millionaire?"

All Hannah could think to do was shrug. Money was never a big deal for her. It was a nice thing to have and certainly made life easier to live, but she never looked down on people who didn't have much to spare and didn't put anyone on a pedestal who did have it. It was one of those things that had importance, but also wasn't that important when compared to other traits. "I guess so," she muttered before taking another bite of her dinner.

When she heard David's quiet chuckle, Hannah looked and saw him just shaking his head as he looked down at his plate. 

"If you are a millionaire, David, I can't help but wonder why you own a bar on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak."

While Hannah didn't care much about financial means, her dad did, which was why she wondered why her dad was still pushing him. 

"Maybe be—cause that's the kind of g-guy he is," Hannah spoke. 

Her dad jerked his fork into the air and pointed it at her from across the table. "A guy from the wrong side of the track."

He was unbelievable, and not in a good way. He may have been a great husband and father, but his judgement of others was his downfall. 

Everyone had a story and none of them were any different. But while Hannah tried to look at every warm body and see a person with a past, present and future, her dad took things at face value. When he saw a homeless person, all he saw was a bum. He didn't think about what led them there or the hardships they were facing or their personal demons. 

"A g-guy who does—n't let mon—ey def—ine him," Hannah corrected. 

"Need I remind you, sweetheart," her mom intervened as she stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork and brought it toward her mouth. "That we are guests in his house and if anyone spoke to you this way in your house, you'd be kicking them out right about now."

David wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it on his plate. "Would you rather I be a stockbroker who's puts his job before everything else and has an apartment no one knows about where he can take his affairs to?" He didn't wait for her dad's reply. "Yes, I own a bar and yes, it's in a shitty ass neighborhood. But people aren't what they do for a living."

"I realize that, Mr. Givens, but Hannah isn't cut out for that kind of life. She doesn't belong working on the other side of the tracks. That isn't who she is. She comes from a good family."

David pushed his plate to the side. "I'm not gonna lie, my clientele can be a rough and rowdy group. There's fights I gotta break up and folks I gotta keep in line. Have you ever been in a fight, Jim?"

"Of course not!" Her dad said with a swift shake of his head. "A little rough housing in college, but that was all in good fun."

A forced smile appeared on David's face. "I've been in more than my fair share, so if you insinuate that my family aren't good people again, you'll find yourself in one and you'll lose."

Hannah hung her head, not wanting to look at either man at that moment and only wished it was possible to teleport out of a room. She'd rather be just about anywhere else in that moment than at that table.

"He didn't mean anything by it, David," her mother tried to defend, but they all knew the truth.

"I know your husband is just trying to test my limits, but he found them and that is not a line I recommend he cross. I'm a patient man and can handle a little interrogation, but I'll only be pushed so much before I start pushing back."

"I can't be—lieve you," Hannah shouted at her father as she paced her small kitchen. 

It hadn't gotten much better after her dad backed down. Instead it got eerily quiet. Her mom attempted to strike up new conversation options to no avail. It was so much worse than any other time she'd introduced a guy to her parents, despite one of them seeming to be on board. 

Her dad ran his hands through his silver hair as he stood in the center of her living room and her mom sat on the couch. "He is not the man for you, Hannah. I don't care how much money he has, the guy is a deviant. He threatened me with violence for Christ sake."

"And I'm sur—prised it took him th-that long! You've been on his c-case since you g-g-got here. You bas—ic—ally called him a sh-shit bag in his own house!"

"You watch your mouth, young lady," her dad scolded as he pointed a finger. 

"No," she fired back. "Ev—er since the acc—id—ent, you have been treat—ing me like a child. But I'm not a child, dad, I'm a grown ass wo—man. I can swear and go out by my—self and have sex and have a re—la—tion—ship with who—ever the hell I want! I'm not fuck—ing fee—ble and I'm not brok—en. I can make dec—sions for myself!"

"Hannah," her mother spoke up, remaining strangely silent up until then. "Why don't you go stay with David tonight?"

Her dad shook his head. "Oh, no-"

Her mom remained slouched in the corner of the couch, rubbing at her right temple for the last five minutes. This was the first time she'd even looked up and she she did, it was to look at her husband. "We raised a strong woman, honey. You aren't going to get anywhere by telling our twenty-five year old daughter who she can and can't date. This isn't a 'your house, your rules' anymore, this is her house and her life and his property and unless you want to get your ass kicked off this property and spend Thanksgiving all by yourself, I suggest you close your mouth and open your eyes."

After a half a minute of complete silence, her mom lifted herself off the couch, looking exhausted by the long day or perhaps just exhausted by her husband. "Our daughter is happy. After living the last three years in misery, she's actually happy and I'm not going to let you try to sabotage that because the only thing you'll end up sabotaging is your relationship with her."

Hannah didn't trust herself to keep her cool in all this and it appeared as if her mom had a better chance of getting through to him than she did, so she grabbed her phone off the end table and walked out the front door, ignoring her dad's comments to stay put. 

Her mom was right. She'd been living the last three years in misery. The first year was unbearable. It was if her soul and mind had been moved into another body she didn't recognize and could not control. Hannah was angry as hell for a long time. After that anger faded, she'd thought she'd become better at masking her emotions, though it was all so much worse when she was stuck with only the sadness of a life she could no longer live.

While all other's assumed she was fine, Hannah's mother saw the truth it seemed. She'd seen the anger as well as the sadness. And now, three years later, she was able to see the happiness that Hannah hadn't felt since before the accident. 

David stood by the open front door as she passed through, seeming to have expected her return. "Didn't go quite like I planned."

Hannah shrugged as she walked into the house. "My mom likes you. My dad will t-too, once he gets his head out of his ass."

David let out a low chuckle, closed the door, and put his arms around her. "He's just being protective. I knew as soon as we picked 'em up from the airport that he wasn't gonna be an easy man to impress, and I can respect that.

"So," David continued, giving her body a light squeeze. "How 'bout we save the mess in the kitchen for the morning and you and I go to bed?"

Hannah placed a soft kiss on his lips, his scruffy face tickling her nose. "Bed sounds good."