No more.
“You disgust me.” I scoff the words, shaking my head in disappointment. “And I quit.”
He huffs out a condescending chuckle. “You can’t quit. I own you.” He reaches across his desk, picking up what appears to be a printed version of my contract.
It dangles from his stubby fingers. Taunting me.
“No. You don’t.”Julia does, I think. But I don’t dare utter her name in his presence. Because this is all on me. And I need to make it right.
He’s fucked with a man who’s never been in love before.
And now I know exactly how I’d act in love.
Irrational.
“Rip it up. I’m done,” I clarify before I spin on my heel and leave his grimy trailer.
He utters threats to my back. They slip off me like rotten eggs from a Teflon pan. Nothing he says matters, because I’d blow my entire life up to spare Julia another moment of strife.
He took photos of her inmyhouse. Without consent.
And it has me feeling fiercely protective. Bordering on vengeful. I want to douse his precious show in gasoline and be the one to toss the match on it. Then stand back and watch all his hopes and dreams forRomance Ranchgo up in flames.
Which means I need to go confess to my oma and opa that I just cost them a lot of money.
I sit across the table from my oma and opa, concern etched across their features.
I suppose showing up looking guilty as sin and telling them that I needed to talk was cause for concern. Mostly because this is entirely out of character for me. But in the time between leaving Richard’s office, going to my cottage, and packing an overnight bag—because I sure as fuck am not staying there withcameras set up—and heading here, the weight of everything that’s transpired became unbearably heavy.
“I don’t know where to start. All I know is I can’t do this show, and I need to stay here with you guys tonight.” I untangle my linked fingers on the table and straighten in my chair in an attempt to appear open and honest. Talking like this is hard for me.
I continue since they say nothing. “I thought I could do this. I thought it wouldn’t matter, and then—”
“You met someone who did,” Oma interjects, voice wobbling, her eyes tearful.
I nod, feeling choked up as my fingers twist between each other again. “Yeah. And now I… I don’t know. I thought I could make it one more week. I wanted to do it for you guys, I really did, but I just—”
“I think,” Opa says gruffly, “what you’re trying to say is you’re in love with that girl, and the thought of pretending to date anyone else makes you want to vomit.”
I glance up at him, eyes shrink-wrapped with tears of relief, because yes, that’sexactlyhow I feel. And for a man who says so few words, the ones he chooses land with force.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I think I might be in love with her. Is it supposed to feel like this?”
“Like what, honey?” Oma says gently as she stands up and rounds the table to sit beside me.
“I don’t know. Like every time I try to focus, my brain short-circuits and goes back to her. Like my chest hurts. Like I’d burn down the fucking world and do morally reprehensible things all just to keep her safe.”
“Oh, baby,” Oma says, leaning her head against my shoulder while rubbing slow circles on my back.
Opa laughs, though. A deep, raspy laugh.
“You be nice,” Oma scolds him.
“I am being nice. I’m just laughing because this one’s been made of stone for so damn long, it’s satisfying to see him finally crack.”
I sniff and wipe at my eyes before looking across the table at the man who raised me. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying this,” I joke, knowing they can hear the emotion in my voice but not caring.
I feel flayed open after the most intimate night with Julia followed by lunch with her family. And then the sinking realization that I couldn’t go on like this.
