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“And nowhere in that mental consideration”—Nyla’s tone was soft—“did it ever occur to you that he could say no but also help you come up with alternative ideas? That neither of you would have to leave?”
It took Dani several long seconds to respond. “No.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Dani countered, “Why would he do that?”
“Because he loves you,” Nyla said, as if it was obvious.
But what did that mean, really?
After Nana’s funeral, family and friends had swarmed, full of hugs and kisses and food and promises. Emphatic in saying, “If there’s anything we can do”; enthusiastic in their assurances that “of course we can take her in and provide for her.”
The way her grandmother would’ve wanted.
But it wasn’t long before time and reality changed their minds and it was “this is too much, we didn’t sign up for this,” and she was shipped off to the next person on the list who’d been emphatic and enthusiastic.
They’d professed to love her, too. Many had known her much longer than Jameson had. But they’d found it easy to leave. To turn her over to someone else.
And then there was Nana.
Dani hadn’t been aware she’d said that aloud until Nyla asked, “You know Nana didn’t leave you on purpose, right?”
What?“Yeah, of course.”
Nyla grabbed Dani’s chain, stopped them both from swinging. “Dani—”
“I know, Nyla!”
But her mother had.
Dani froze as understanding slammed into her.
Is that what this was about?
All these years later, she was still reeling from that original abandonment. Everything she’d wanted, strived for, and achieved had been to prove that she was worthy of love. That she wasn’t someone to be left behind.
Was her need to be “in control of her life” really about her gaining the power to always be the one to decide who leaves?
Or who stays?
Dani was glad she was already sitting, the realization so overwhelming that her legs felt weak. She touched a shaky hand to the brim of her hat, thankful Nyla had remained silent and given her time to work her way through it.
Nyla squeezed Dani’s hand. “You’ve been through a lot in your life. And instead of letting it break you, you used it to fuel you. That’s great. But you’ve also allowed it to keep people at a distance.”
“Not you.”
“Not me. Or Yolanda. But have you noticed that other than us, and Jameson, the people you’re closest to are people you pay?”
Well, damn. She hadn’t.
Nyla pursed her lips. “I’ll admit, I got it wrong.”
“When?”
So far, she’d been right on the money.
“During the tribute ball. I told you not to take Jameson seriously or get involved with him. But that man is head over heels, crazy in love with you. And he wants to make you happy.”
