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“My mother will eat you alive,” she said quietly. “She’s going to judge you more than you’ve ever been judged.”
“I can handle your mother,” he said firmly. “She doesn’t scare me.”
“It’s not about scaring you,” she breathed. “It’s about hurting your feelings.” His face softened, and he rested his hand on her back.
“You’re sweet, baby girl. But let me worry about that, okay? I promise everything will be fine.” She shook her head as he spoke. “Are you embarrassed of me?” Her mouth fell open.
“Embarrassed? Of you?” She could hardly believe he’d think that. “Of course not.”
“Then why are you freaking out?”
“Because I’m going to inherit two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars in a few years!”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“Remember the day after we met, I didn’t talk to you? I didn’t go to school or work, or?—”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
“My mother came to my apartment after our date,” she explained. “She told me I had an inheritance. I’ll get it when I’m twenty-five, but she could give it to me before then if she and my father signed off on it.” He nodded, still looking a bit shell shocked. “Her only stipulation was that I had to move back home.”
“You had to—no. No. You’re not moving back there.”
“I know,” she whispered. “When I moved out, I chose to leave that life behind. The money, everything.”
“You left because you were being abused,” he said fiercely. “You did the right thing.” She shook her head.
“I didn’t leave because of that,” she told him, and his brows scrunched together. “My mother thought it was a waste of time for me to go to school. I could’ve been married to a wealthy man by now, but I wanted to spend my time painting and studying old artists.”
She shuddered as she relived that night with her mother. It was the last night she lived at home. After her mother threatened to stop paying her tuition and set her up with one of her friend’s sons, she went to her room and packed a bag with only the things she needed and left.
She just had her bag with Ottie and some clothes in it and walked out the front door, and didn’t stop until she was at an apartment building begging the landlord for an apartment. She was lucky she’d already been working at the museum so she had some money in savings, but it was a different life from the one she was used to.
“She wanted to arrange for me to get married,” she explained. “And I didn’t want that life, so I left. I left because I wanted to choose what I did with my life. I wanted to choose who I married, if I ever married.”
“You were really brave, baby,” Jett said softly. “I’m proud of you.” Her throat tightened. No one had ever said that to her, not about this. Not about a lot of things.
Chris had been so upset with her, but even he couldn’t convince her to move back home. He still thought it was ridiculous that she chose to live in the terrible little apartment she did instead of her gilded cage.
“So, tomorrow night when you meet them, just be prepared that they’re going to be terrible to you. They’re going to judge you for not having as much money as them, and for working the job you do.”
“I can handle it,” he said. “But if I see they’re upsetting you, I’m taking you away from there and we’re never seeing them again. Understand me? I won’t have anyone, not even your parents, making you feel bad about yourself.”
Something in her chest loosened. She should’ve known Jett would put her first, that he’d always protect her. But hearing him promise it eased her anxiety a bit.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered, shifting onto her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her tightly to his chest, squeezing her until she thought she’d pop.
“I’ll always take care of you, pretty girl. I don’t care what anyone says or does to me, but I do care what they say and do to you.”
“I care what they say to you,” she said, pulling away. He smiled softly, brushing her hair from her face.
“I know you do, baby.”
“You’re not upset with me for not telling you sooner?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“It’s a lot to trust someone with,” he said. “Thank you for choosing to trust me.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “And for the record, I don’t care how much money you have. If you’re rich or poor, I don’t care. It’s you I want. It’s you I love. Not money. Not material shit. Just you, Abbie.”
She gaped up at him, her lips parting as she tried to breathe through the pounding of her heart.
