Page 63 of Evergreen

My father stepped forward, his eyes scanning me from head to toe like he was checking for injuries. “We got a message from one of our friends about the Elder Council being attacked. We came as soon as we could.” He paused, his jaw clenching. “We heard you were there for some reason and we were... we were worried.”

I blinked, not entirely sure how to respond to that. Worried. About me. The concept felt foreign after a lifetime of being treated like an inconvenience.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reed,” Linden said carefully from beside me. “I’m... I’m glad you’re here. It was my fault Cass was at the Elder Council. He was supporting me while my case was being heard. And good thing too. He saved me just as much as I saved him.”

My mother finally released me, though she kept one hand on my shoulder like she was afraid I’d disappear if she let go completely. Her eyes landed on Linden, and I watched as she took in his green skin and massive frame. There was no hiding what he was.

“You’re the dryad,” she said, not unkindly. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, ma’am,” Linden replied, his voice carrying that careful politeness he always used with authority figures. “I’m Linden. Your son has been... very helpful to me.”

My father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt my stomach twist. This was it. This was the moment when everything was going to fall apart because my parents found out about Linden and me. Because they realized their son was in love with a man, with a paranormal creature, with someone so far outside their carefully constructed worldview that they wouldn’t know how to process it.

“Helpful how?” my father asked, his tone carefully neutral in a way that screamed volumes.

“He’s my boyfriend,” I said, not letting myself think twice about it. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I’ve been helping him rebuild the conservatory, which I destroyed while I was drunk in an attempt to impress my friends.” I looked between their shocked faces as I bombarded them with information. “I’m staying with Linden one way or the other, so if you’ve got something against who or what he is, then you can go home by yourselves. I’m fine here.”

The silence that followed my declaration was deafening. My mother’s hand tightened on my shoulder, and I could feel her trembling slightly. My father’s face had gone completely blank, the kind of blank that usually meant he was processing information that didn’t fit into his carefully organized worldview. I’d seen him do it countless times before when it came to my outbursts.

“Your boyfriend,” my mother repeated slowly, like she was testing out the words to see if they made sense. “A dryad.”

“Yes,” I said, meeting her gaze directly. I could feel Linden beside me, his presence solid and grounding even as tension radiated off him in waves. His magic was still crackling beneath his skin, ready to defend me if things went south. “And I’m not leaving him. Not now, not after what we just went through. Not ever. I’m sorry I’m such a big fucking disappointment to you two, but this is who I am and I’m not going to change just to fit into the stupid little box you want me to live in.”

My father opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Cass, is that really what you think of us?”

I stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out what he meant.

“We aren’t the Purity Front,” he continued. “And we do our best not to associate with those that are.”

“Honey,” my mother said, taking over. “We just want you to have a better life than we did. We don’t want you to struggle like we had to or sit by and force a smile while everyone looks down on you.” She looked up at Linden, then back to me. “But if he makes you happy, then of course, that’s what matters.”

“But… But you guys…” I was at a loss for words, my brain trying to run in a thousand directions at once. “You always said⁠—”

“A marriage into a wealthy witch family is the easiest way to a happy, fruitful life,” my father nodded. “We were trying to guide you in that direction to make things simple.” He looked at my mother, his brows knit together. “But now I’m wondering if we pushed too hard. If we made you feel like you had no other choice.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding us?” my mother asked. “Why you’ve been so angry and distant?”

I felt something crack open inside my chest at those words. Anger, resentment, confusion… all of it came pouring out at once. Because they were right. They’d been pushing me toward that path my entire life, and I’d internalized it so deeply that I thought it was what I wanted. That it was what I needed.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice coming out rough. “That’s exactly why. Because every time I tried to tell you about something I actually cared about, you made me feel like it wasn’t good enough. Like I wasn’t good enough unless I was fitting into some predetermined mold.” I turned away from them, unable to look at their faces anymore. “And then Linden came along and he just let me be myself. Not the version he wanted me to be, but the real me. The angry, reckless, chaotic version. And he loved me anyway.”

Linden’s hand found the small of my back, a silent gesture of support that grounded me even as I felt myself unraveling.

“I’m sorry,” my mother said quietly. “I’m so sorry, Cass. We never meant to⁠—”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” I interrupted, finally turning back to face them. “But that doesn’t change what happened. That doesn’t change the fact that I spent years feeling like a fuckup that couldn’t do anything right in your eyes.”

My father stepped forward, and for a moment I thought he was going to try to hug me or something equally uncomfortable. Instead, he just looked at Linden.

“Thank you,” he said simply. “For helping my son. For loving him.”

It was such a small thing, such a simple acknowledgment, but it felt monumental. I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, and I hated it. Hated feeling this vulnerable, especially in front of my parents.

“We should go,” Professor Paulson said gently from the doorway. “The Dean is requesting that campus be cleared of all outsiders and that students who wish to stay remain in their dorms. There’s a curfew in effect until we have more information about the attack.”

My parents nodded, but neither of them moved to leave immediately. My mother reached out and squeezed my shoulder one more time, her cheeks still wet.

“We’re proud of you,” she said. “Regardless of who you’re with or what path you choose. We’re proud of you.”