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“I’ll tell you what’s not necessary.” He went on. “The way you treat the woman I love.”
“Love.” She gasped.
“Yeah, Mom. Love. I love Jess. Have loved her for years. There’s no one else for me, and there never will be. We’re getting married. I’m giving her my name. Hopefully, she’ll give me some kids one day. Ones that look just like her. And if you want to be part of that, part of my life, then you’ll respect my decision. You’ll respect this woman.”
His mother was slack-jawed, an expression I’d never seen someone so poised ever wear. Her eyes slid to me, and her lips slammed shut, pursing in disapproval. “But she’s—”
“My choice,” he deadpanned. “Mine. Not yours. Or Dad’s. Or anyone else for that matter. I know you don’t approve, which is stupid by the way, and I don’t give a damn. Your control of me and my life stops here. Now.”
“You might feel differently without access to your trust fund,” his dad intoned.
Why did everything always come back to money? Having it. Not having it. Trying to get it.
Laughing, Ben reached into his back pocket. Needing both hands, he pulled his arm from around me. “Lean on me,” he whispered, pushing his body closer so I could do just that.
Opening his wallet, he pulled out three cards and tossed all of them into his father’s chest where they smacked into his well-pressed dress shirt and then fell onto the cold tile of the pool deck.
“I don’t want your money. I don’t need it. I hope that pile of cash keeps you company at Christmas.”
His mom gasped. “Benjamin!”
“Leave it, Brenda. He’ll change his mind when the money runs out.”
Ben laughed. “You forget that I was exactly who you wanted me to be for almost twenty-one years. You think I didn’t learn? You think the minute I heard you disparage the girl I was going to marry that night four years ago that I didn’t do what you taught me to do?”
Dad straightened. “What does that mean?”
“We weren’t really a family, were we, Dad? It was business, and you’re a good businessman. I learned from the best.” He toed one of the cards lying near his feet. “I have my own money. My own accounts, untouchable to you. I have assets working for me even as we speak. I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” He glanced down at me, the hard planes of his face softening. “Of you.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, Ben,” I said.
“I know. You’ve proved that over and over again.”
“All I really want is for you to love me.”
“Done.”
Despite standing here under the resentful and shocked stares of his snobbier-than-snobbish parents, all I felt was warmth.
“This is very admirable, son. I’d like to hear how you’ve done it. What you’ve done.” His father went on.
“But?” Ben goaded, slipping his arm back around my waist.
“But you can’t possibly have amassed the amount of money that’s in your trust fund.”
Ben shrugged. “No amount of money will ever equal her.”
My hand bunched in the shirt covering his back. My knees felt weak, and my heart felt less like a heart and more like a pair of hummingbird wings.
His words, his actions, were like burning sage to the ghosts of the past, clearing out the pain and self-doubt so all that remained was the future he promised.
“You would really give up your family, your inheritance, for her?” His father was incredulous.
“In a heartbeat.”
Silence fell heavily around us as if his declaration killed whatever remained.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Ben said softly. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
