Above, the Caldwell crew: Camille, Zach, James, Wynona, and a very brave and bold Cole :)

Cole

This shouldn't be awkward at all.

Right.

Next to me, Wynona sighs. I sense her impatience growing by the second, which can only serve to further inflame an already tense situation. Across the table, Zach shifts uncomfortably as James and Camille Caldwell take their sweet time absorbing my presence.

My holding her hand should be a dead giveaway that there's something more than friendship going on between the two of us, but maybe that's a proposition too overwhelming for them in light of who my father is.

Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever be able to overcome the idiocy of this decade's old feud.

"Well, don't just stand there," Camille says, ending the lengthy silence. "Come and join us."

I pull out a chair for Wynn, seating her next to her mother, and then head to the end of the table where I sit between Wynn and her brother. Opposite me, I notice that James can't be bothered to participate in the strained exchange, choosing to top off his glass of wine and retreat into the solace his phone offers.

"What a delight to have you here tonight, Cole," Camille lilts, her fingers methodically drumming over the white linen tablecloth as she observes us. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Umm..."

How eloquent. Damn.

This is far from the impression I had hoped to make. I came here wanting to prove that I could be man enough to handle our circumstances, to honor and love their daughter. Instead, her father won't even acknowledge me, and her mother's making me so nervous that I can't seem to form coherent sentences.

Wynona reaches for my hand, linking her fingers with mine and giving an encouraging squeeze. She smiles shyly, her eyes meeting my own, and I'm filled with immediate peace— her touch a simple and welcome reminder that I don't have to do everything on my own anymore.

We've got this.

Our contact isn't lost on Camille, however, who raises an eyebrow at our joined hands resting on the table. She scoffs, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "I'm putting two and two together, I believe. Something tells me that you wouldn't have been so insistent on meeting tonight if you were merely introducing us to your boyfriend."

"Go ahead, Mom," Wynn challenges. "Since you seem to know everything."

Oh, hell.

I watch my girlfriend, filled with defiant fire and fury as she takes on her mother in a cryptic battle of wills. She's beautiful— and a bit crazy. Still, I'm left dumbfounded by the silent struggle between them.

"I know a doctor," Camille says quietly. "You needn't concern yourself with the details. We can handle this before it damages your reputation. Nobody needs to know."

Wynn laughs humorlessly, shaking her head. "Wow. You can't even say the words. I'm pregnant Mom! And I'm pretty sure you and Dad are the only people in this county who aren't aware of that!"

"She is," Zach says, nodding emphatically. "With Wyatt's baby. Lana's sister Emmy told me." He turns to face me with a grin a mile wide. "Gosh, Cole, it's sure nice of you to be with my sister when the baby isn't even yours."

Down the way, James chokes on his wine while Camille's eyes widen in shock. As for me, I'm torn between laughter and mortification. Wynn smirks at her earnest brother, her fondness for him evident in her softening features.

Leave it to Zach to defuse the chaos of the moment, even if his assertion is complete nonsense.

"Nah, kid," Wynn says gently. "This baby is a Galloway." She glances my way, beaming with the admission.

I can't believe she's mine. I lean toward her, fitting my mouth to hers. Sure, it's a little brash on my part, what with two gaping parents and a puzzled Zach working to come to terms with our relationship and info dump. But I just couldn't help myself.

"Mercy, are you two out of your minds?" Camille demands, her voice shrill. "I mean, don't get me wrong, here. I'd never endeavor to take your choice from you, darling, but goodness knows you're too young to understand the weight of this responsibility."

"It's a burden," James grunts as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose, having pulled a few files from a briefcase stashed beneath his chair.

"Is that so," Wynn demands. "One would think you'd need to be present in order to claim us as burdens, but whatever." She shrugs, but I see the hurt behind her carefully assembled façade.

"Oh, honey, your daddy didn't mean it like that," Camille says, glaring in her husband's direction. "What he was trying to say is that it's a burden for someone without means. Your father and I can afford the expense of children, but you and Cole haven't even finished high school! It's too much, dear."

"We'll find a way," Wynn mumbles, glancing away from the piercing gaze of her mother, who's really starting to piss me off. "We're not gonna change our minds."

I nod in assent, watching Camille as she contemplates her next move in this match of wills. She shifts, her eyes meeting mine. "I understand. Well, in that case," she pauses, sighing dramatically. "I suppose we can make this work. Wynona, you remember Lars. Call him, and have him turn one of the guest rooms into a nursery. You'll also need to hire a full-time nanny for while you're away at school. Use your platinum card to purchase all the necessities, and—"

"With all due respect, ma'am," I say, raising a hand to halt her tirade. "We're going to handle these matters ourselves. I've secured an apartment and a job at a hardware store. We want to do this together." Beside me, Wynn smiles, with some of the building tension and anger from Camille's insensitivity filtering away.

"Cole, you can't be serious," Camille sneers. "This inconvenience shouldn't hold you back. You have school and football to think about— college, a future! Goodness knows you're destined for greater things than teenage fatherhood. I bet your parents would agree."

Indeed. Suddenly, her intent is crystal clear. They'll deal with the inconvenience of our child, but they sure as hell don't want me in the picture.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mrs. Caldwell. I love your daughter, and this burden is ours. I will be a father that's there for my child. It's what a real man does," I assert, watching the hopelessly detached man at the end of the table, who continues to ignore the plight of his only daughter.

I was wrong.

Growing up with Harris as a father colored my perception of family, leading me to believe that having parental involvement in every facet of life was the norm. Wynn has complained of her family's aloof indifference since the day I met her. I never imagined it could be as awful as she's alleged, but it is.

And just as she predicted, her mom has thrown money her way, while her dad has done his damndest to ignore us all, in favor of his precious work. I'm disgusted. My dad's methods may have been all wrong with me, but I can't say that I don't know that my parents love me. I'm certain that they do.

I don't think Wynn could say the same. I feel a mix of fury and sadness so profound, it makes me want to take her away from here, never to expose her to their callous ways again.

"That's a nice sentiment, Cole," Camille says, her tone nothing short of condescending. "It's simply unrealistic. You've got too much life ahead of you to settle for this."

That's it. I'm done with this.

"Being with your daughter is not settling," I begin, rising to my feet. "It's a privilege. Becoming a father isn't a burden, it's a blessing. You ready, Nono? I think we'll head out, now." She takes my hand, and I help her to her feet. "Thank you for your time this evening."

I lead her out the door, feeling riddled with guilt. That was not how I saw the evening going, and all of the resulting fireworks were my fault. I take both of her hands in mine, unable to look her in the face. "I'm so sorry, Wynn. My behavior was completely uncalled for. I was starting to get angry, but I didn't mean—"

My words are cut off as she throws me up against the brick wall behind us, her lips meeting mine so fiercely that I'm left breathless. She wraps herself around me, kissing the length of my jaw and then taking my earlobe between her teeth. "I love you, Galloway," she whispers before capturing my mouth with hers once more.

"Not that I'm complaining," I say, pulling away slightly. "But what did I do to earn this mauling?"

She smirks, tucking her head into my chest as I slip my arms around her. "I believed that we'd be okay. I knew that we would find a way, I really did. But hearing you say so, and seeing how much you believe it, too. I just... I don't know how I got so lucky."

"Babe, you deserve so much better than what you've had," I say, kissing the top of her head. "Seeing your parents in action tonight was eye-opening. Our families are like two different extremes, with mine way too involved in my life and yours so apathetic, it's insane. We'll do better, Wynn. I promise."

"We will," she agrees. "It won't be perfect, but it'll be our best."

...

I lug another gym bag loaded down with clothes and toiletries into our apartment, having stopped by Wynn's house on our way home. She wanted to be done with her parent's house for good, so we filled her car with everything she thought she could possibly want or need from the Caldwell's.

"You've got a hell of a lot of clothes," I say, before heading to the car for another armload. We tried not to overdo it because we don't really have much space to speak of in this tiny place. I want this to feel like home to her though, so I know I can make it work, even though I have no idea where we're gonna put all her stuff.

"Don't worry, we'll have a chest of drawers soon," she calls from the bedroom. "Heck, maybe two of them. Mom said I could use my platinum card, so you better believe I'm gonna. I'll make them wish they'd never offered."

I wander back through the doorway, shaking my head. "Nono..."

"Really!" she continues. "We'll get a couch and a chair or two— comfortable ones. Maybe designer ones, actually." She smiles, seemingly taken with her vengeful plan.

"What good will that do, sweetheart?" I ask, dropping the bag of shoes I was carrying in the bedroom before making my way toward her. "We'll just be proving them right. It's like admitting we can't do this ourselves."

"It would make me feel better," she huffs. "Spending several thousand dollars to outfit this place would serve two great purposes: our home would be flawless, and it would piss my parents off. I'd love to let them foot the bill."

I step before her, tipping her chin upward to face me. "We are doing this. It's what you told me after our first night in this shitty place."

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Yeah. I might've said that."

"So, let's do this," I continue. "I wanna prove myself, to you and to me. I wanna take care of you and our baby. I don't want their charity."

"I love that you feel that way, babe," she says, her gaze never leaving mine as she wraps her arms around my waist. "And I don't doubt that you can. It's not all on you either, you know. I'll get a job, too. We have a real, fighting chance to do this on our own. But..."

"But what?"

"But if we need a little help, we'll take it. I'm not too proud to admit that it might come to that. We're both eighteen, Cole, and neither of us knows exactly what we're getting into. There's no shame in accepting a bit of help. They did offer."

I sigh, knowing that there's some truth to her words. We are asking a lot of ourselves, and we've got a lot on our plates already. "Alright. As a last resort alone and only things for the baby. Those are my terms."

"Done and done," she agrees, rewarding me with a quick kiss. "Now, let's get some of this crap organized."

We set about hanging her clothes in the closet and loading the vanity with her perfume, make-up and hair supplies. The floor of the closet is completely covered with shoes, three pairs of which are mine, and several dozens of hers.

And we didn't even bring all the pairs she owns.

It's kind of ridiculous, but those damn shoes bring our circumstances into sharp relief. We've both gone from lives of plenty, with every physical need met and exceeded, to a life where we'll barely be getting by. Our circumstances have changed so much already, and we've only just begun as a couple. That knowledge is rather intimidating but also makes me all the more determined.

"Ugh, I should've had you leave this bag closer to the kitchen," Wynn groans. I turn to find her manhandling a duffle bag, dragging it with all her might toward the doorway and out of our bedroom.

"Let me," I say, moving toward her and grabbing the strap. It takes some effort to heave it onto my shoulder. "Why do you want this in the kitchen?"

"Because it's full of cans and jars."

"You stole food from their pantry before we left?" I ask, mildly amused.

"Sure," Wynn chirps happily. "They never eat any of it anyway, so I figured we might as well." She unzips the bag then, pulling can after can from it, rapidly filling our bare cupboards.

"That's precisely what we shouldn't do, Nono," I say, though she's so damn cute and cheerful that it's hard to sound serious.

"Why not? It's...for the baby, Galloway," she says, grinning from ear to ear as she cradles her non-existent baby bump.

"You're trouble," I manage, before dissolving into a fit of laughter. I cross the small kitchen, taking my giggling girl in my arms before smothering her face with kisses. We may not have all of life's luxuries at our disposal anymore, but I feel like I've got the whole world by the tail right about now.