Love was like steel. It had to be tested, shaped, and sometimes broken before it became unbreakable.
Logan had spent his life believing he had to fight alone. But Emilia had shattered that illusion. She had seen his scars and hadn't turned away. She had stayed.
Now, he had to do the same.
The final test came sooner than expected.
A week after their confrontation on the porch, Logan received a call that made his blood run cold.
His father was in town.
He hadn't seen the man in over a decade, and part of him had hoped he never would. But now, fate had other plans.
Derek was the one who broke the news. "He's asking for you," his brother said over the phone. "Says he has something to say before he leaves for good."
Logan stood in silence for a moment, staring at the forge, where the flames burned hot. His hands trembled, not with fear, but with uncertainty.
Could he face the man who had spent years making him feel small?
When Emilia found him later that evening, he was still in the workshop, staring at a piece of unfinished steel.
She didn't ask what was wrong. She already knew.
Instead, she walked up to him and took his hands, her warmth grounding him. "You don't have to go," she said softly. "But if you do, I'll be right beside you."
And just like that, the weight didn't feel so heavy.
---
The meeting took place in a small diner just outside of town. Logan walked in first, Emilia a step behind him.
His father looked older. Thinner. The once-imposing man who had ruled his childhood now seemed… tired.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then his father sighed, rubbing his face. "You're taller than I remember."
Logan's jaw clenched. "A lot of things have changed."
His father nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess they have."
Silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of unsaid words.
Finally, Logan spoke. "Why are you here?"
His father exhaled, staring down at his coffee. "I spent years thinking I was right. That toughness was the only thing that mattered. That art—craft—was for the weak." He looked up, meeting Logan's gaze. "But I was wrong."
Logan's breath hitched. He had never expected an apology. Not from him.
"I won't ask you to forgive me," his father continued, his voice rough. "But I needed to say it. Before it was too late."
Logan felt Emilia's fingers brush against his beneath the table, grounding him.
For the first time, he didn't feel like a scared kid. He wasn't looking for approval anymore.
He had already won.
Taking a deep breath, Logan nodded. "I'm not doing this for you," he said. "I'm doing it for me."
His father gave a small, tired smile. "That's good, son. That's real good."
And with that, the past was no longer a weight.
Logan walked out of the diner with Emilia's hand in his. And as the sun set over the horizon, he knew one thing for certain—
Some steel was meant to bend.
But some—when met with silk—became something stronger than either could be alone.
Together, they were unbreakable.