My phone chimed in my pocket when I was half-way to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I pulled it out, hoping it was Cash returning one of the hundred apology texts I’d sent him last night as I paced the floor.
My stomach twisted when I saw who the message was from.
Grandmother.
“We need to talk.”
Four short words had never shaken me so much before. Was this a happy “we need to talk” or an angry one? I couldn’t tell because Grandmother had neglected to punctuate her words with a single emoji. But considering I’d left the cookoff last night with her check in my hand, even after admitting I was a no-good, lying, punk of a granddaughter, I had a pretty good idea what kind of a “we need to talk” text message this was.
She had every right to be angry. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I owed her that talk. It would be terribly rude of me to make her disinherit and banish me from the family via certified mail. I sighed, the weight of our unspoken conversation already weighing me down.
I tapped out my reply. “Yes, we need to talk.”
All I could hope was that she’d let me keep the money as a loan. I’d promised it to Cash and he needed it fast—faster than I could ever hope to pay him without Grandmother’s help. He wasn’t the kind of a guy that could be bought, but keeping my promise to him was more important to me than anything else in the world, even if it meant I wouldn’t have enough money left over to pay my studio fees.
I shoved the phone in my pocket and washed my face, trying not to think of what a monumental disappointment I must be to my grandmother. Tears flowed with the water as I mourned the loss of a relationship I’d never had with her—one I’d never have. What kind of an idiot thinks they can lie their way into the heart of a loved one? My cheeks burned with anger at myself for sacrificing who I was at the altar of ambition.
“Never again,” I muttered to myself, pulling my toothbrush from the cabinet.
I would fail or succeed as my true self. No more lies. No more deceit. But there were a few difficult conversations I had to have before I could move on. With a fresh shirt hugging my body and the cool effervescence of freshly brushed teeth reinvigorating me, I marched through my front door and directly up to Cash’s.
It opened before I could knock.
Cash’s broad shoulders filled the doorway as Moose stood by his side on his leash. Surprise flashed in his eyes, though I’m not quite sure why. He hadn’t taken a single one of my calls, and our text message thread was still woefully one-sided. He had to know I’d show up at his door eventually.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
Now that I was looking at him, I didn’t know what to say. WhatcouldI say? I’m sorry? That wasn’t enough. I’d disqualified him from the prize of a lifetime, let his ex get the better of him, and let Grandmother think he was a horrid person. But worst of all, he thought I’d traded our relationship for filthy lucre.
He hadn’t been there to hear my grand speech setting the record straight. In his eyes, I’d let him down in more than one way.
“I want to apologize for last night,” I said.
“It’s not necessary.”
“No, it really is. I should have spoken up and told the truth sooner. I—”
“Willow.” He stepped outside and shut his door behind him. “Answer one question for me—a simple yes or no.”
I didn’t like the hollow sound in his voice. My breath hitched in my throat. “Sure. Anything.”
“Would you have ever started dating me if you hadn’t needed that money?”
That wasn’t a question I could answer with a yes or no. It wouldn’t tell the whole story. No, I never would have agreed to go out with him if I hadn’t needed his help, but that was more a reflection of the judgmental person I’d been three weeks ago than anything to do with him.
“The truth, Willow.” The sadness in his eyes burned a hole into my heart I didn’t know if I could recover from.
“No,” I whispered. “But—”
“Then you don’t have anything to be sorry for. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t forced your hand. I just wanted a shot with you that bad. It’s my fault.”
Moose caught sight of a stray cat at the corner of the building. His relentless barking echoed loud in my ears, driving every coherent thought from my mind. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t have had a coherent thought in my head whether that dog was barking or not. I didn’t know what to say. What was anyone supposed to say when a man was standing in front of them, taking all the blame for something that wasn’t remotely his fault?
The more chivalrous he behaved, the more despicable I felt.
“No, none of this was your fault,” I said.
