No, he must never know any of that.
I prayed Cami would keep her mouth shut. Biker boy seemed cocky enough to think it was all him and let it all go to his head. I certainly didn’t ever want him to think that he had affected me as much as he had.
I, maybe, didn’t think that it was all about him. That kiss just snapped me out of the daze I seemed to have been in most of my life. I had tried so hard to be the good girl. I never did anything to tarnish the family name. That was who I was. That was pretty much all I knew.
There were so many rules and things that had been drilled into me from the get-go. Things that I wasn’t even aware of until now and I was sure there were more that I couldn’t see just yet.
I never left the house unless I was looking my best. Hair and makeup always perfect. Clothes always pressed. Nails always polished just right.
I never laughed too loudly in public. Or had one too many drinks. Or ate everything on my plate no matter how wonderful it tasted. Honestly, I had been forced so many salads and fruit most of my life, I wasn’t even sure what good food tasted like.
That led into the weight thing. I couldn’t be fat. I had to make sure that I stayed slim but not to the point I got that big head, anorexic thing going on. Heaven forbid people think that a Benson girl had an eating disorder.
It was sick and twisted.
I curled up on my bed and wanted nothing more than to cry. The realization that I was headed down a path that turned me into my mother cut me deep. I would have had children with Brice and I knew that I wouldn’t have even realized that I was bringing them up all wrong. I would have shaped them and molded them much like I had been.
I was miserable.
I had grown up that way.
But I had also been raised not to ever see it. Or if I did, then I was to push it down and hold up the false illusion that everything was perfect.
Only now I saw it.
The world around me was crumbling so fast that I didn’t think I could hold it together. Which made me wonder how was I supposed to move on now?
Who was I?
I had no idea. I didn’t know what I liked or what I hated. I had no clue as to what I wanted to do in my spare time. Ha, spare time. That was something I only appeared to have. If I wasn’t doing something in the family name, I was out keeping up the image of the perfect Benson life.
It was stupid and shallow.
Iwas shallow.
The things I thought about. Clothes. Shoes. Purses. Keeping my hair up and making sure that it never lost its color or shine. Rushing to the salon the moment a fleck of polish flaked off my nails and doing my best not to let anyone see. Taking trips to New York and Paris for clothes. Oh, and of course that was done on a private jet. Going to snobby restaurants all so I could order a salad. And sitting in upscale night lounges drinking the most expensive champagne.
But was that me?
Could I make it off of frozen food and ten dollar wine? Was that even a thing? I couldn’t even imagine what ten dollar wine would taste like. Or how about buying clothes off the rack and not having them tailored so they fit me just right? Would the jeans from Old Navy feel scratchy to me? Would they fit my tall, slim frame right? Did they even make them long enough in my size to cover my ankles?
It was all silly, I supposed. To think of things that I wasn’t sure I even had to worry about. Sure my father sounded dead set when he told me that if I didn’t show up to the charity dinner on Brice’s arm that it would be the end. But did he really mean it? I may have still been living in a fantasy world where I could call their bluff.
I guessed I would find out soon enough, since I had not gone to the charity dinner and all. It certainly was too late to change my mind.
