Page 107 of Chasin’s Surrender

Genevieve opened her eyes, and when her look hit Chasin, all the air squeezed from his lungs.

“Baby,” he whispered in a desperate attempt to find a way to erase the pain that he hadn’t seen since she’d forgiven him for being a dick. Pain that was so stark, it was worse than when he’d gutted her in the living room in her uncle’s house. And that was saying some not-so-great things because that night, he’d shredded her.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

His answer came quickly. It was irrevocable, and he meant it in a way he knew would never change.

“If I think back to when I was a little girl, like five or six, I can remember feeling loved. My grandparents loved me. They spoiled me, and not with things, with deeds. They made time for me. Granddad taught me to ride a bike. Grandmom baked cookies with me. Normal. Typical grandparent stuff. I loved them. Then my parents’ drinking got bad and the family started to take sides. My uncle was firmly in the camp to disown my dad and cut him off. My grandmom loved her son and wanted to try to get him help. My father refused. This went on a few more years until one night my dad was out doing whatever he did and my mom was passed out drunk on the couch. I was hungry, so I did what I always did and went to the kitchen to make myself dinner. This wouldn’t have been a big deal but I had to climb on the counter to reach the bowl I wanted.”

She pressed her lips together, then resumed. “I fell and broke my arm. Only I didn’t know it was broken for a few days because no one took me to the hospital. My granddad found out, lost his mind, and cut my dad off until him and my mom went to rehab. They refused. Granddad came over and tried to take me, obviously, my parents weren’t fit to take care of me, but my father refused.”

Genevieve paused, took in a breath so deep, Chasin could feel the air whistle by him.

“I heard them arguing. Granddad said he was packing my stuff and taking me. But he never made it into my bedroom because my dad threatened to call the police. Not to tell them my granddad was taking me without permission but because my dad knew my granddad’s business was involved in illegal activity. Granddad left, without me. And as he was walking out the door he turned and saw me sitting on the bottom step. He knew I heard and didn’t say anything. He didn’t smile at me. He didn’t hug me goodbye. He walked out the door and left me to my parents. That was the first time someone abandoned me, but not the last.”

“Evie.”

“Teachers, coaches, friends’ parents, they let me down, too. They knew my parents were drunks. They knew how we lived. No one helped. No one tried. That’s how I learned I was worthless.”

“What the fuck?” Chasin growled.

His heart was in his throat and the need to find and strangle every person who had ever made this beautiful woman feel worthless roared in his veins.

“Bobby’s been trying for years to break through and make me see it. Force me to open my eyes and see I wasn’t what they told me I was. She couldn’t do it. But you did. And you weren’t even trying. You did it without knowing you were doing it, just by making me smile. You had no clue who I was, how much money I had in the bank, you didn’t know I had Grammys, and gold statues, and platinum records hanging in my studio. You didn’t know I have guitars worth more than people’s cars, and cars that cost more than most people will save in their lifetimes.”

She gave him the sweetest smile. “But for you, I was worth it. I was worth your time, worth your smiles, worth getting to know. And I started to see it. And even though things got messed up, you didn’t wait to fix them. When I tried to push you away, you didn’t let me. You protect me, you tell me you love me, and you say you trust me. All of that makes me think I’m worth it.”

Her smile disappeared, taking his heart with it. “So tell me, what are you hiding from me? And before you tell me ‘nothing,’ you need to know, I’m not letting this go.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, and surged forward, taking Genevieve back to the bed.

He gave her his weight and shoved his face into her neck, too overcome to speak. He felt the heaviness of apprehension pressing down on him.

“I’m scared as fuck you’re gonna figure out you’re too good for me,” he finally muttered. “I didn’t know it when I met you, but you do have all those things you mentioned and I’m sure more that I’ve yet to discover. You’re a country music star, you got millions of fans dying to see you, hear you, cheer for you, and I got nothing to offer you.”

“Wha’?” she wheezed, and he slid partway off her. “What?” she repeated.

“Babe, it is not lost on me what you got. I saw a picture of your house, I know what you were asking and I know the offers you received. I got money in the bank, I live tight so I don’t waste it, and I make good money. But I got nothing compared to you and I never will. I can’t financially support you, I can’t—”

Genevieve’s hand snaked up and slapped over his mouth, and at the same time she hissed, “Shut up.”

He gently removed her hand.

“Babe. Listen—”

“You want it?”

“Want what?” he asked hesitantly.

“The money. You want it? It’s yours. I’ll give it all to you. It means nothing to me. Never has. So if you want it, you can have it. And I hate that stupid house. I hate that I had to live behind a gate because my asshole parents wouldn’t stop harassing me all hours of the night so I was forced to live in a prison. I hated every piece of furniture that was put in that house. You know what I’ve wanted my whole life?”

“To sing,” he guessed.

“No. I sang to escape my shit life. I wanted a family. A real one. A good one. I wanted to love someone and be loved and have daughters so I could tell them every day they were special. I wanted a husband who wouldn’t drink himself stupid and would love me and tell me he did. But never, when I was dreaming about what I wanted, did that include fancy cars, clothes, shoes, or a mansion. Just love. That’s it. That’s all I wanted.

“And in the thirty years I’ve been alive, I’ve felt that a handful of times from grandparents who turned their backs on me when I needed them the most. So really, I’ve never had it. Until the day I met you. Then I found it. So if you think money factors into what you can give me, you’re wrong. Flat-out, straight up, wrong. You give me everything I need, every time I need it. It’s not about who’s too good for whom. You keep saying it, honey, but it hasn’t penetrated—perfect. That’s what we are. Perfect for each other.”