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Connor looked around the room, his frown hard to miss, but I decided to ignore it and kept on tying the ribbon around this particular bundle.
“I’m really starting to hate your mom,” he grumbled. “This is ridiculous, Jenna.”
I dropped my hands in my lap as my shoulders fell in defeat and tears threatened to fall. “This is literally the only thing from her binder that I can make happen in our timeframe. Can you just help me?”
It was hard to ignore the look of pity on his face when I was staring right at it, so I looked away. I finished tying the bow and set this bundle aside. Only another hundred to go.
I’d already done three hundred, but our parents had a guest list two hundred people long, and my mom was insistent that each person should get one at their seat and then another for when they leave. I doubted they’d even eat them all and we’d probably have hundreds left over, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to make bundle after bundle.
Large hands covered mine, stopping my movement. I looked up to find Connor only inches away, his brow furrowed in what could only be described as concern. His other hand brushed a loose hair from my face.
“I hate seeing you beat yourself up for her when she doesn’t appreciate it or deserve it. You’re too good for her, Jenna.”
The sincerity in his voice was my tipping point, and just like that, the dam broke. My shoulders shook as tears fell and before I even had a chance to ask, his arms were wrapped around me and he was hauling me into his lap, holding me tight. His lips pressed against my head in a tender kiss that had my heart hurting for a different reason. I sobbed in his arms, years of built-up feelings that I’d tried to shove down bursting forth uncontrollably. I had some sense that this was a ridiculously over-the-top response to what he’d said, but I guess there was only so much a person could push down before it all came bubbling up to the surface with no chance of stopping until everything was out.
We sat there for minutes, me sobbing into his chest while he held me tight and whispered softly into my hair. I was too distraught and caught up in my own emotions to make out any of the words, but just knowing he was here, that he had me, was enough to ease the worst of the heartache.
The sobs turned into hiccups, and then just sniffles. Snot was running out of my nose and I’d never felt less attractive than I did right then. I was afraid to look up at him, but I knew I’d have to face him at some point. He was too attuned to me. He’d realize I was ready to talk and he’d make me.
If only I had the same ability to make him spill all his secrets to me.
He tucked his finger under my chin and lifted my face so he could stare into my tear-stained eyes. “You ready to talk about it?”
I looked into his dark eyes wondering what it would take for him to finally let me in—all the way in—the way I was letting him in with every moment we spent together. Maybe if I told him everything, he’d do the same. Telling him my favorite things and the bits about Peter and my mom that I’d shared weren’t the same as opening up all my hurts and insecurities.
“My mom and I have always had a complicated relationship. I was never girly enough for her?—”
“You mean vapid,” he interrupted.
I stared at him, wondering how he could deduce that so quickly. His eyes softened. “Jenna, you’re plenty girly. You love pink and purple and pop music and probably pumpkin spice lattes.”
I did love pumpkin spice lattes. And all those other things were true too.
“So girly isn’t your problem. You’re not shallow like your mom, and any Joe off the street would be able to figure that out after only about five minutes. Or less.”
“Okay, fine, girly isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s that I’m not as vapid, as you said, but regardless, there’s always been a tension between us that I never saw between other girls and their moms. Sadie was never close to her mom, which is maybe why we clung to each other like we did. We’d been missing something, and we both accepted the other exactly as we were. My mom only made time for me when it was useful for her. My parents divorced when I was four, and even though initially they were supposed to have joint custody and split their time with me equally, my mom decided she wanted the flexibility to travel and be out late without me ruining her fun. So I ended up living with my dad full-time. My dad did his best and he’s great, but I’ve always hoped that if I just didmorethat maybe my mom would finally tell me she loved me and actually mean it. That sounds stupid because there are kids with no parents, but it’s how I felt—feel.”
“It’s not stupid.”
I took a deep breath. This next part was harder to confess. “She was proud of me when I got into vet school. She told everyone about it—how smart I was and that I was going to be a pet doctor. For the first time, I felt like I was good enough. She wasn’t just proud of me, she was proud of me for pursuing something that I loved and was excited about.”
I looked down at my hands in my lap. “But I’m not doing well at school. I’m way behind all my classmates, and this past semester, I almost failed. As it stands, I got a D in one of my core classes which means I need to retake it because I have to get a C or higher for it to count toward my degree. I wasn’t originally planning to come home this summer. I was going to get an internship near school and try to make up the class over the summer so I could still graduate on time, but my advisor told me she thought that what I needed to do was reevaluate if this was the right career path for me.”
I’d never felt as low as I did sitting in Dr. Washington’s office listening to her crush all my dreams with every word out of her mouth. She thought I couldmaybebe a decent vet tech, but I didn’t want to be a vet tech. There was nothing wrong with that job except that it wasn’t the job for me. I wanted to be a veterinarian. I cried the whole way back to my apartment after that meeting. I’d never had someone tell me outright that they didn’t think I should pursue my dreams.
“She basically told me to my face I wasn’t good enough. It kind of sent me into a spiral,” I admitted. “Instead of finding an internship, I called my friend who I knew was looking for someone to sublease down here and made arrangements for this apartment over the summer. At the end of the term, while all my peers started their internships, I was driving back home to figure out if I could really hack it in vet school, or if I should even try.”
“And what have you decided?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve been here for a month already, right? So what have you decided to do?”
I shrugged against him. “I’m still not sure.”
Quiet fell between us, and the gentle steadiness of his breathing against me lulled me into a peaceful state. The silence felt nice instead of scary or suffocating.
“You’re good enough, Jenna.”
