The Hard Crush 1 Feelings For You

Winifred looked around the grand living room, taking in every detail.

It wasn't exactly what she had expected. In fact, it surpassed her expectations entirely. Yet, despite its elegance and grandeur, she remained unimpressed. Then again, nothing about Roderick had ever impressed her.

She crossed the spacious parlor, her footsteps echoing softly against the intricate mosaic floor, and entered through the wide doorway that led into the dining room.

The dining room was nothing short of magnificent—a vast hall illuminated by the warm glow of dozens of white candles flickering from the enormous chandelier above. The long dining table was large enough to accommodate twelve people comfortably, and every corner of the room reflected wealth and sophistication. It was beautiful. A place where someone could enjoy an exquisitely prepared meal surrounded by fascinating company.

Fascinating company that did not include Roderick and his son, Travis.

She moved toward the enormous refrigerator positioned at the far end of the dining room, beside the grand table. She wondered what kind of expensive delicacies and beverages were hidden inside. She hadn't eaten lunch yet, and her stomach was beginning to remind her of that fact. She reached for the handle, and just as she was about to open it—

"There you are!"

Winifred immediately turned around, and her irritation surfaced the moment her eyes landed on Roderick.The man who had recently become her father.

Despite the size of the dining room and the distance between them, she could clearly see his familiar wide grin, his perfectly straight white teeth on display as he walked toward her with the confidence of someone who owned everything around him.

Ugh.

She hated that he was successful.

She hated that he was wealthy.

She hated that he was annoyingly handsome.

But most of all, she hated that her mother had fallen for his ridiculous charm. He was everything that her mom liked.

At that moment, all Winifred wanted was to wipe that smug expression off his face. Yet, as he approached her, his smile remained untouched—a smile that somehow reached his eyes.

"Here I am," she replied flatly, folding her arms across her chest.

"I see you're already becoming familiar with your new home," he said, stopping in front of her.

"Maybe," she answered with a small shrug.

"And I assume Travis and Beatrice have shown you to your new room?"

She nodded.

"Have you settled in?"

Another nod.

"I hope you like it."

Winifred finally decided to answer. "It's a bit too much for me. The bedroom is too big, and the bed is unnecessarily huge, and—"

A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Nothing should ever be too much for you."

She continued as though he hadn't spoken. "—and the color on the walls is far too girly for my taste. You should have asked for my opinion before choosing it. I'm not exactly a fan of pink."

"I thought most girls liked pink," he replied.

"I'm not most girls." She frowned, resisting the urge to punch him simply to erase that irritating smile from his face.

Roderick laughed.

Winifred wondered why he did that so often. He laughed at everything, even things that weren't remotely funny. Perhaps his charming smile and effortless laughter worked on other people. They certainly didn't work on her.

When his laughter finally faded, Winifred looked away.

"Where's my mom?" she asked.

The moment Bridget was mentioned, Roderick's expression softened. There was no denying the affection he held for her mother. The love he had for Bridget was obvious, almost painfully so. But somehow, that didn't make Winifred dislike him any less.

She couldn't explain it.

She simply didn't like him.

Perhaps it was because he seemed too perfect. No one was supposed to be perfect, yet Roderick somehow possessed every quality people looked for in a man. He was kind, patient, successful, and undeniably attractive. His strong features and confident presence made it easy to understand why her mother had been drawn to him.

Over the years, plenty of men had tried to court Bridget. None of them had lasted. Either her mother had ended things herself, or they had eventually walked away. And Winifred couldn't deny that she had played a part in some of those relationships ending.

Ever since her father's death, she had refused to accept another man stepping into his place. She wasn't ready to let someone else take the role of her father.

Until now.

And she still wasn't ready. Her mother knew that. Roderick knew that too. Yet Bridget had accepted him after only four months of getting to know him and dating him. Then, in the fifth month, he proposed. And shortly after that, they were married.

Bravo, Bridget.

Winifred watched as Roderick smiled, clearly lost in his thoughts about her mother.

"She fell in love with the house almost immediately," he finally said. "She decided to look around a little more." A small pause followed before he added, "I just hope she doesn't get lost."

Then he laughed at his own joke.

Winifred stared at him. Was this some strange habit he had? Laughing at every little thing every few minutes?

When he noticed that she wasn't amused, his laughter slowly disappeared.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um... did you want something from the fridge?" he asked, gesturing toward the refrigerator behind her.

"No," she replied quickly.

A lie.

"You should eat something. You didn't have lunch."

Concern crossed his face as he walked past her and reached for the refrigerator handle.

"I'm fine, Roderick."

She turned around and reached for his arm before he could open the refrigerator. The gesture was purely instinctive, meant only to stop him. But the moment she realized what she had done, she quickly pulled her hand back.

Roderick paused, looking down briefly before meeting her eyes.

Winifred felt a flicker of embarrassment—not because of the contact itself, but because it reminded her how unfamiliar this entire situation still was. This was a man she barely knew, a man her mother had married, and now she was expected to see him as a father figure.

She took a step back, putting some distance between them. The last time she had any physical contact with Roderick had been the day her mother introduced them. He had offered her a polite handshake, and she had accepted it reluctantly. That had been four months ago. Until now, that had been the only moment where they had shared even the smallest gesture of familiarity. And she preferred keeping it that way.

She noticed the brief disappointment that crossed his face, and for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt.

But it quickly disappeared.

"I'll be going to my room now," she said, avoiding his gaze.

There was no point pretending. Roderick knew she disliked him. He had tried everything. His charm, kindness, patience, and several attempts to impress her. Yet all he had received in return was her coldness and resentment. And somehow, she still didn't feel guilty toward him.

The guilt belonged to someone else.

Her father.

Accepting Roderick felt like a betrayal. As though allowing another man to call her his daughter meant she was forgetting the man who had been her father first.

She didn't want this.

She didn't want a new home and new family. She didn't want her life turned upside down.

Why did her father have to leave her so soon?

Now she was expected to adjust to a family she had never asked for.

Without another word, Winifred turned away and walked out of the dining room. She could feel Roderick's eyes following her as she crossed the hall, her steps quickening until she was almost running. She didn't know what her future would look like now that she was starting over with a new family.

But she knew one thing.

Whatever came next, she would have to be prepared.