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“Stop,” Lo snaps at them, often having to play peacemaker between his dad and brother. He steps between their rigid builds and focuses on me. “The one thing that just doesn’t make sense to me, Willow, is that Ryke and I could’ve helped you so many times and you said no or you didn’t ask when you needed it. Not just with burying that video footage, but tuition and even your flat, back when you wanted out of the lease. You didn’t let us help you, so why accept our dad’s help but not ours?”
Ryke faces me more now, his brows furrowed. He wants this answer too, and I know it’s the biggest one.
What changed that made me go to Jonathan and not to them.
Emotion stings my eyes. “I never wanted to burden any of you.” I wipe beneath my glasses. “I never wanted to come into your lives taking more than I should. You all know that; I’ve said as much before. But I needed the money to protect Garrison, and when I had to make a choice to burden a father or a brother, I decided to burden a father.” A tear slips out, and I look to Lo. “You’ve taken care of me since I came to Philly, even before I knew Jonathan was my dad—but you have two children, Lo. You have a son and a daughter, and maybe one day you’ll have more babies, and they’re going to need your help and your support too. And the way I saw it, I couldn’t take from you or Ryke because everything I take could go to your kids.”
Their gazes try to soften, and I see their sadness.
“I’m not your child,” I continue on. “I’m his.” I motion to Jonathan. “And he has less on his plate than both of you.” He’s retired. His sons are grown up and financially independent. It made the most sense.
If they thought I went to our dad because I love him or trust him more, it’s almost the opposite.
I love Lo and Ryke and their families too much to ask for more.
Lo’s jaw sharpens. “I wish you didn’t feel like that.” He comes closer as I sniff, and my brother hugs me, a hug that slows my anxious heartbeat.
As we pull back, I wipe my running nose with my knuckles. “You’ve done everything for me, and it’s okay that you let our dad do this.”
Lo nods a few times, understanding, but Ryke looks more concerned. He’ll always be worried about Jonathan having control over my life. Over Lo’s life, too.
But maybe it’s good that they both know about the hundred grand. Maybe I should’ve told them so much sooner. Because the way they turn to our dad, I know they’ll never let him dictate where I go or what I do. No matter how many checks he writes.
66
garrison abbey
Last day in London before we fly back to Philly, and I’m still happily engaged to Willow. For a guy who’s certifiably cursed, that’s pretty much all I could ask for, and it’s a lot to ask because it’s all I want.
I accounted for some drama since I invited her dad to the engagement dinner, so no surprise there. But it’s not until his daughter is gone—at a brunch outing with all the Calloway sisters—that he decides to serve his shitty opinions.
And they’re all being flung on a gold platter at me.
“She hasn’t even graduated from college yet or begun a career,” Jonathan tells me in his penthouse suite, where he invited his sons, Connor, and me for lunch. “If you thought more about her academics, you would’ve waited. It’s too soon—”
“No, it’s not,” I retort, leaning backward. My instinct is to draw away from bullshit, not catapult towards a fight.
Connor just went to the bathroom to take a business phone call, but the rest of us are seated at an ornate round table that looks fit for the British royal family, and we have perfect views of the River Thames, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey.
Willow’s dad is loaded. The sheer wealth of this man is literally all around me, and I stare Jonathan Hale down as I add, “Willow and I already agreed to get married after she graduates.” She has to finish up this semester, and then she’ll be a senior.
One year and some months left. That’s it.
Piece of cake.
“You’re too eager, and you’re rushing her,” Jonathan criticizes as he dunks a biscuit in coffee. “Give her time.”
“Dad,” Lo says with the shake of his head.
Ryke glares at their father. “Why are you always speaking for Willow? She’s not fucking here, and if she were, we all know she wouldn’t agree with you.”
Jonathan ignores his son, his eyes on me. “You’re not thinking this through, Garrison.”
“I am,” I snap. “Last time I checked, I have a brain.”
