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“You’ll come running right back when you realize you can’t manage on your own.”
“Independence is for people with real ambition pursuing a real career.”
My parents’ words resonate in my head. That last one—Dad really hurt my feelings with that. If they were here right now, I’d tell them to shut the hell up.
I blow out a breath that sends the tendrils of my hair fluttering. Actually, I wouldn’t tell them to shut up. I’d stand there and soak up their lack of faith in me. I’ve never had the nerve to stand up to Mom and Dad.
Stepping outside, I stare into the pool and go into full brooding mode. When I hear the glass door slide open behind me, I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself not to cry. The real issue isn’t even that Rowan paid for things for me.
Thebiggerpicture is the underlying feeling of ineptitude that my family drilled into me. Rowan just made me feel like my parents were right about everything. Like I can’t survive on my own like every other adult.
“Grace.”
My back stiffens. “I’ll be back inside in a minute.”
A soft sigh precedes his footsteps. “Can we talk now? Please. I feel awful. I’m sorry.”
I scowl at him over my shoulder. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”
“Honestly...” Blue eyes, clouded with guilt and confusion, move over my face. “I’m not sure. Talk to me.”
I deflate a little with my next breath because I know he means well. He always does. Turning to him, I throw my hands up. “You just burst my bubble. My prideful hell-yes-I’m-handling-shit-on-my-own bubble.”
He gazes at me for a moment, then scrubs a hand over his face. “Well. Shit. I’m...reallysorry. I didn’t mean to.”
After a beat of silence, I snicker because the horror on his face at the thought of “bursting my bubble” is kinda cute.
Rowan eyes me warily. “So, you’renotangry with me anymore?”
“Of course I am.”
He looks downright baffled now.
“When you constantly do things—and I meanhugethings—like paying off my medical bill and my college tuition, you trigger a myriad of insecurities that I’ve had hovering over me since I reached adulthood. My parents...”
A ragged sigh comes out because I don’t even want to talk about them. Not after Mom called today to remind me of my sister’s wedding anddemandI be there. Not only that, but I’m being also shoved into the position of a bridesmaid because one of Isabelle’s friends dropped out last minute.
So, I’m alast-resort stand-in for my own sister’s wedding. Then Mom had the nerve to ask if I could afford to fly out after my “little fire incident.”
Little fire incident?What the fuck! I almostdied. Mom isn’t up for any parent of the year award, that’s for sure. Then she offered to buy my ticket. Not because she’s actually worried about my financial state, but because golden-child Isabelle’s wedding must go off without a hitch.
I assured her I could muster up a hundred bucks. But what I really wanted to tell her was where to shove her plane ticket money.
Recounting all that is getting me riled up, so I take several deep breaths and shove my awful family into the darkest corner of my mind.
“Are you alright?” Rowan asks, watching me closely.
“I’m fine. But I’d be better if you stopped doing things for me.”
“Grace—”
“No. I hate feeling like my rich boyfriend’s charity case.”
His eyes widen. “That’s not—”
“That’s how I feel.” Glowering, I add, “You didn’t evenaskme if I wanted you to help me. I don’t want you to see me as this young, naïve girl who can’t take care of herself.”
“That never even crossed my mind.” He threads his fingers through his hair, tousling the dark blond stands. “You said from the beginning that you don’t like handouts, and I respect that. It’s just, I really didn’t think of paying your tuition or medical bill as handouts. I just wanted to make things easier for you. You’ve been through the wringer enough, Grace.”
