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Which he won’t. I won’t let him.
No matter what Kendall or anyone else thinks.
“Yes, that young man of yours knows exactly what he wants and goes after it, doesn’t he?” Grandma says, smiling sympathetically, and I nod, relieved to be able to share at least part of my turmoil with her.
“He does. And it’s overwhelming at times.” Like pretty much all times. “Marcus is… a lot to handle.” Especially when a part of me is still wondering if it’s all a game to him, if he’ll get bored with me and move on to someone who fits his requirements better.
Grandma’s expression turns serious. “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right, sweetheart? I’m sorry if your grandfather and I came off as pushing you earlier. Obviously, we want you settled and happy with a good man—and Marcus seems like a very good man—but if you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Living together is a serious step, and you should take as long as you need to make your decision. His apartment won’t run away.”
“I know, but it’s not just that.” I take a breath. “You’ve read the article; you know how wealthy he is. Everything in his life is expensive. Just the sunglasses he was wearing today probably cost more than my monthly rent. And he has a private jet and a butler who cooks and a housekeeping service and a company that takes care of his plants. How do I keep up with that? How do I—” My voice cracks. “How do I date him without turning into her?”
Grandma tilts her head. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.” She sighs. “I suppose I should’ve known. Sweetheart”—she covers my hand with her warm palm—“you couldn’t be like Brianne if you tried. Your mother… she had something broken inside her. Something missing. It wasn’t anything we did; she was just born that way. It took me a long time to come to terms with it, and there are nights when I still wake up in a cold sweat, thinking about it, wondering if it was my fault after all. But she was like that always. Even as a baby, she’d steal other children’s toys with zero remorse.” Old pain glimmers in my grandmother’s eyes. “We didn’t know what to do. No matter how hard we tried to instill empathy in her, she only cared about what she wanted, only did what made her feel good.”
My chest squeezes painfully. “I’m sorry, Grandma. That must’ve been so awful for you and Gramps.” I can only imagine the torment my kind, generous grandparents had gone through, watching their one and only daughter carelessly hurting people all her life.
A bittersweet smile curves Grandma’s lips. “Awful for us? Oh, Emma, sweetheart… you’re the one who was raised by her. And you’re sorry for us? Darling, if you needed any more proof that you’re nothing like your mother, here it is, in spades. You have more empathy in a single nose hair than Brianne had in her entire soul.”
I stifle a startled giggle. “A nose hair?”
“A nose hair,” Grandma says firmly. “And if you take your entire nose—well, there’s really no contest. As to the financial disparity between you and Marcus, let me ask you this… Do you care about him?”
I blink, all desire to laugh disappearing. “Yes, I do.” I am, in fact, in love with him, but I’m not ready for my grandmother to know that.
She smiles, squeezing my hand. “I thought so. The two of you remind me of your grandfather and me in our youth. The way you look at him and the way he looks at you…” For a second, she seems lost in fond memories, but then she refocuses on me, her gray gaze sharpening as the smile fades from her lips. “Sweetheart, listen to me,” she says quietly. “You’re nothing like Brianne. Never have been and never will be. The issue with your mother was not that she took money from the men she dated—it was that she didn’t care about them as people. To her, they were nothing but wallets with legs. As long as you don’t see Marcus that way—as long as what you two have is genuine—there’s no shame in letting him spoil and indulge you… take care of you in whichever way he wants. Money is an obstacle only if you let it be one—so don’t let it. Don’t let Brianne poison your life from her grave.”
16
Emma
I think about Grandma’s words throughout the rest of our time in Florida. It’s strange, but I never considered that by fighting so hard not to be like my mother, I’m keeping her toxic influence in my life. Then again, Grandma’s been on my case about this issue in one way or another for years. First, she and Gramps wanted to take out loans to help me through college—an idea I vehemently vetoed by taking out the loans myself. More recently, they’ve been wanting to take out a second mortgage so they could help me with said loans. It’s both touching and maddening, because the last thing I want is to ruin their retirement with stress about finances.
