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My jaw drops. All I can do is stare.
“My company is about to go public, and we’ll be richer than ever. We’ll be traveling in far better social circles. Think of the things your mother will be able to do for charity!”
“And? So?”
“And a beached whale simply won’t be welcome in those circles,” my father says cruelly. “You think you had a hard time finding clothes to fit you before? Try finding a couture gown to mask all of that blubber!”
Something inside of my heart snaps, like a rubber band. I expect to tremble as I get to my feet but instead I feel calmer and more collected than I have in years.
“I’m not going,” I announce clearly. “And I don’t know how you can think these terrible things about me. I’m your only daughter!”
My father glares at me. “Yes, and you’re a fat cow. Don’t fight me on this, Emma. You’re going. A space has already been booked for you at Trim Acres.”
I turn on my heel and stalk out of his office with tears stinging my eyes.
“You leave first thing tomorrow!” my father says from behind me.
I break into a run and dart up the steps to my room just as I hear his office door slam shut. Taking the stairs two at a time, I bolt up to my room and close the door behind me. My heart is thudding as I lock the door with trembling fingers.
For a moment, it hurts too much to even cry. My father, the man who should always have my best interests at heart, hates me. He’s ashamed of me.
Jason doesn’t even want to be seen in public with me. I take a deep, shuddering breath and lean against the door. What did I do to make my father stop loving me?
I wonder what it will be like. Trim Acres. Even the name is enough to make me sick. I picture myself huffing and puffing away at various exercises, my clothes stained with sweat. I think about the food: it’s definitely not going to be like the rich, sumptuous meals at Dane’s cabin. More like veggies and water, or a diet of black bread and rice. Ugh.
I can’t go. The idea of going somewhere like that for my father is nauseating. I’ve always done exactly what my father has wanted, and look where it’s gotten me. Sheltered and heartbroken and ashamed of myself.
Well, I’m not doing that anymore. With a sigh, I step away from the door and turn to my closet. I stand on tiptoe and reach inside for my suitcase. A grunt escapes my lips as my fingers brush against the monogrammed canvas. When it tumbles free, it brings a ton of folded clothes with it.
Now that I know what I’m going to do, I’m strangely not nervous at all. My heart is still racing but the trembling has stopped and I unzip the suitcase with ease. Think, Emma, think, I order myself as I glance around my room at the chaos of clothing.
I don’t have much room. I’m only going to be able to take the things that I love most.
I glance about the space. There are so many memories that I have of this place. The thought of leaving home for good doesn’t make me so much sad as it does nostalgic. I’ll never have Lacey over again for late night pizza and movie marathons. And my mom won’t show up at the door with a freshly-baked platter of chocolate cookies anymore.
Suddenly, a lance of pain shoots through my heart. God, my mom. The thought of leaving her is the only thing holding me back. I love Ramona, despite our complicated relationship. It makes me ashamed to think that she knows exactly what my father said to me. I wonder if he said anything similar to her, like if he threatened her with plastic surgery or something equally insulting.
I struggle to push the thought of my mind. As desperately as I love my mother, I can’t set myself on fire to keep her warm. I’m an adult now, and I have to make my own decisions. I’ve hidden behind her skirts for too long.
Dropping to my knees, I start sorting through my untidy piles of clothes. They’re all pretty much the same – expensive tunics of a soft material meant to conceal my big curves. Mom’s seamstress made all of them, so it’s like I have the same outfit in ten different colors. I’ve never cared for them much, but I have to wear something. I pick three and stuff them into a suitcase, followed by a few pairs of leggings. Panties are easier.
Besides, I should have a lot of those on hand just in case Dane feels like ripping them off.
The thought makes me blush and I pause for a moment as I remember the electric touch of his fingers on my skin. Dane. Just thinking about his name is enough to fill me full of hope. My life will improve if I’m with him, snug and safe in his cabin. Things will get better.
