The billionaire' Chapter 124: Iris: Family ties

Chapter 124: Iris: Family ties

I take a deep breath as Lucas pulls up to my grandparent’s house, the familiar cream paint and flood light coming from the ho looking just as I rembered it. Lucas turns off the engine and turns to , his eyes filled with encouragent.

"You got this, Iris," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You’re strong and capable, and you’ve thought this through. Just be honest with your parents and communicate your needs."

I nod, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. I know Lucas is right – I’m ready to have this conversation and set boundaries with my parents.

Lucas reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I’ll be waiting right here for you," he says. "No matter what happens, I’ll be here to support you."

I smile, feeling grateful for his presence in my life. I lean over and kiss him, feeling a surge of love and appreciation.

"Thank you," I whisper. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Lucas smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You’ll never have to find out," he says. "Now go get ’em, tiger."

I laugh and get out of the car, feeling a sense of determination wash over . I take one last look at Lucas, who gives

a thumbs-up and a reassuring smile, before turning and walking up to the house.

As I approach my house, a knot of apprehension twists in my stomach. Today is the day I confront my parents about everything—the lingering shadows from my past and the overwhelming emotions that have surfaced since my father’s return. But as I step through the front door, the unexpected sight of my grandparents greets : they are back from their fancy trip.

"Welco ho, sweetie!" my grandmother exclaims, her arms open wide as she rushes to embrace . The familiar scent of her floral perfu wraps around , montarily easing the tension in my chest.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" I say, feeling a rush of warmth. "I didn’t know you were back."

"We surprised you!" my grandfather chis in, his deep voice comforting as he steps forward to envelop

in a bear hug. "How have you been, Iris?"

Surprise my ass. They probably heard from my parents that they had co ho and flew back in haste. Not that I’m complaining.

I pull back, smiling at both of them. "I’ve been... okay. Just dealing with so things."

My grandmother’s expression shifts to one of concern. "Oh? What kind of things? You know you can talk to us about anything, dear."

I hesitate, the weight of my recent struggles pressing down on . "It’s a long story. Can we sit down?"

"Of course," my grandfather says, leading the way to the living room. I follow, feeling a mix of comfort and anxiety. My grandparents have always been a source of support, but discussing my father feels like stepping onto shaky ground.

Once we settle on the couch, my grandmother reaches for my hand. "Iris, sweetheart, we can see that sothing’s bothering you. Please, share what’s on your mind."

Taking a deep breath, I begin. "It’s about my dad. He ca back into my life yesterday unexpectedly, and it’s stirred up a lot of feelings I thought I had put behind ."

My grandparents exchange glances, their expressions serious. "What do you an?" my grandfather asks gently.

"I found out he’s been dating Mom," I explain, my voice trembling slightly. "Mom brought him to the house, and I felt overwheld. It brought back mories of my childhood and the fear and confusion I experienced. I didn’t want to see him, and I didn’t know how to handle it."

My grandmother squeezes my hand tighter. "Iris, it’s understandable to feel that way, especially considering your history with him. How did your mom react?"

"She didn’t understand why I was so upset," I admit, frustration bubbling up. "She thinks he can be a good influence in my life, but I don’t see how that’s possible."

"Have you talked to her about how you feel?" my grandfather asks.

"I tried, but I ended up running away before we could discuss it," I confess, guilt washing over . "I didn’t want to confront the past."

My grandmother nods, her eyes full of empathy. "It’s a lot to unpack, dear. We understand if you need ti to process everything. But avoiding it might make things harder in the long run."

"I know," I reply, feeling the weight of their concern. "I just don’t know how to face him or even begin to express how he made

feel."

My grandfather leans forward, his expression serious but supportive. "Iris, it’s important to rember that you have the right to set boundaries. If your father’s presence brings up painful mories, you don’t have to engage with him until you’re ready."

"I’ve been seeing a therapist," I say, feeling a flicker of hope. "Dr. Williams has been helping

work through my feelings. He suggested I write down what I want to say if I do decide to confront him."

"That’s a good idea," my grandmother says, her voice soothing. "Writing can be a powerful way to organize your thoughts and express your feelings. Have you started?"

"Not yet," I admit. "I guess I’ve been too scared to face it. But I know I need to."

"Then let’s help you," my grandfather suggests. "We can help you practice what you want to say. Sotis, role-playing can make a difficult conversation feel less daunting."

I look at them, surprise flickering in my chest. "You’d do that for ?"

"Of course!" my grandmother replies, her eyes bright with encouragent. "You’re our granddaughter, and we want to support you in any way we can."

As I consider their offer, a wave of gratitude washes over . "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Let’s start with how you’re feeling," my grandfather says gently. "What do you want your father to know? What do you need from him?"

I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I want him to understand how his actions affected . I want him to know that he can’t just waltz back into my life without acknowledging the pain he caused."

"Good start," my grandmother encourages. "And how do you think he might respond?"

I frown, contemplating the question. "I don’t know. Part of

worries he’ll try to manipulate the conversation or downplay my feelings."

"Then you need to be prepared for that," my grandfather says. "Establish your boundaries ahead of ti. If he dismisses your feelings, it’s okay to walk away. Your emotional safety is paramount."

I nod, feeling a sense of empowernt growing within . "I think I can do that."

"Let’s practice," my grandmother suggests, her voice filled with warmth. "Imagine you’re sitting across from him. What would you say first?"

I close my eyes for a mont, picturing the scene. "I’d start by saying, ’I need you to understand how your absence affected my life. I felt abandoned and scared, and it’s not sothing I can just forget.’"

"Great," my grandfather says, pride shining in his eyes. "Now, let’s say he responds defensively or tries to downplay your feelings. What would you say then?"

I furrow my brow, thinking hard. "I’d tell him that my feelings are valid and that he can’t dismiss my experience. I have the right to feel hurt."

"Exactly," my grandmother beams. "You’re standing firm in your truth, and that’s important."

As we continue to role-play, I feel my confidence building. With each exchange, I grow more comfortable articulating my feelings and asserting my boundaries. It feels liberating to practice speaking my truth, and I can sense my grandparents’ support bolstering my resolve.

However, as we neared the end of our practice session, I began to feel a creeping doubt. What if I can’t hold my ground when the mont cos? What if my father’s presence unravels everything I have worked so hard to build?

I decide to voice my concerns. "What if I freeze up when I see him? What if he says sothing that makes

doubt myself?"

My grandfather’s expression shifts to one of seriousness. "Then you rember that you’re not that little girl anymore. You have the power to walk away if it becos too much."

"But what if I want to reach out and try to connect?" I ask, my voice wavering. "What if I want to believe he can change?"

My grandmother frowns slightly. "Iris, it’s important to be realistic. People can change, but they can only do so if they acknowledge their past mistakes. You deserve to be treated with respect and understanding."

Feeling overwheld, I nod but can’t shake the anxiety curling in my stomach. "I just don’t want to screw this up."

"You won’t," my grandfather assures . "You’re stronger than you think."

After a while, the conversation shifts to lighter topics, and we share laughs and stories that help ease the tension. However, as the day wears on, I can feel the weight of the upcoming confrontation looming larger in my mind.