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“Evan and I stopped at one of the jewelry stores in town while you were at work,” Elliot added, his lips still brushing my ear.
My heart about stopped. “Tell me you didn’t drop an assload of money on a ring.”
“I didn’t.” His lips brushed my cheek. “I realized I had no idea what you’d want to wear, so I told them we’d stop by again after lunch.”
Relief swept through me. I already knew what style I liked—having wealthy grandparents had meant inheriting a bunch of expensive jewelry. My parents probably still had all of it shut away in the safety deposit box my grandmother had left for me, but that was just another thing they’d taken from me when they disowned me.
I wasn’t someone who found great meaning in old items, though. My grandmother’s wedding ring was expensive, but I had no desire to wear it. Mostly because I knew that said expensive ring hadn’t represented a happy marriage, or a peaceful one, even.
“Alright. Let me check my bank account, first,” I murmured to him.
His lips brushed my temple, and his eyes followed Evan while I logged in. Not to the account I’d created two years and eight months earlier—to the account that had been emptied when I was disowned. I hadn’t checked it since then, forcing myself to move forward and leave the past behind while I focused on my baby, and my future.
My fingers shook a little while I waited for it to load. The numbers would only be a broad estimate; the account held many assets that had always been managed by someone my dad was connected to, which was why I hadn’t been able to get much out before my parents shut it down.
The numbers finally appeared.
“Shit,” I breathed.
My eyes watered a bit as I stared down at the screen.
Elliot wasn’t watching, careful to give me privacy. He hadn’t pushed me on anything, but especially on money.
I checked the date of the deposit before I handed him the phone, my hands shaking hard.
They had been telling the truth; the money and other assets had been put back less than a month after they drained them. And from the looks of it, the asset manager had continued investing and doing other shit, because the numbers were even higher than they had been before.
Tears stung my eyes, and I dropped my forehead against Elliot’s shoulder, not wanting to cry in the park.
“That’s a lot of numbers,” Elliot finally remarked.
A teary laugh escaped me. “Yeah.”
“Guess I can be a stay-at-home dad after all,” he teased me lightly.
A laugh shook my body, hard. “You don’t want that.”
“I don’t know. I had a blast with Ev. Taking care of him is exhausting, but… in a way that I enjoy. Mostly.”
“You’re amazing,” I whispered to him, my voice rough. “I love Ev, but it’s been a lot for me. A hell of a lot. I wish I felt the same way about it that you do, and feel like a shitty mom when I don’t.”
“You’re an incredible mom,” Elliot countered. “Don’t beat yourself up for being human.”
He paused, and I snorted. He chuckled. “For being a person, I mean. You’re a mom, but that’s not all you have to be. You get to have likes and dislikes, and hobbies, and whatever else you want too. Unless what you want is a side piece—then I’ll probably end up in jail for murder.”
I laughed, lifting my head and wiping my eyes. “I don’t want a side piece.”
“Better not.” The look in his eyes told me he was teasing me.
“So far, you take such good care of my needs that a side piece would be a downgrade,” I teased back.
He shot me an all-male grin. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I laughed and leaned the side of my head back against his shoulder, staring out at the playground with my lips curved upward. I’d make a few calls and get the assets transferred into a new account ASAP, in case my parents decided to pull more of the same shit, but I didn’t think they would touch it again. And I’d have to find my own asset manager, but I’d figure something out.
Like Elliot had said, the past was in the past. I’d survived, and that was what mattered.
And though we would’ve been fine financially without the inheritance money, it was a thick, thick cushion that managed to drain the stress from my shoulders just by existing.
