"I'm not saying right now," I continued. "I know I'm going to need a lot of care after the surgery. I'm just saying, I can't live the rest of my life in the basement. I was right here the whole time, with you guys keeping an eye on me, and something still went wrong with my heart. Wrapping me in bubble wrap and treating me like I'm a porcelain doll didn't stop my heart from getting fucked up anyway."
"Language!" my mom admonished without thinking.
"I'm twenty-two, Mom," I said. "And no, I'm not one hundred percent healthy. There's always a chance something might go wrong. But I could also be hit by a bus on my way to work tomorrow, too. I can't spend my whole life worrying about what terrible thing might happen. I have to live my life. And so do you."
My mother's face was red, and I didn't know whether it was from anger or distress.
"Mom. You have to go back to work. You can't just sit at home worrying that something's going to happen to me. You need to live your own life, just like I need to live mine."
I turned to my dad. His brows were drawn down, looking at me with a forlorn expression on his face.
"Dad, you have to quit that damn job. I know you're worried about money and insurance but we'll figure it out."
I dug my nails into Nathan's palm to keep him from speaking up. I knew my parents wouldn't take kindly to my rock star musician boyfriend offering to foot all my bills.
"We've let my illness dictate our lives and it's nearly ruined us. You've been fighting with each other for years. You've tried to hide it from me, but not well enough. You probably would have gotten divorced long ago if you weren't so worried about how I'd take it."
They both wore guilty expressions on their faces.
"And I'm growing to resent the two of you," I continued. "It was one thing when I was a kid and I needed someone to take care of me anyway. But I'm grown up now and if you keep smothering me the way you have, eventually I'm going to start hating you, too."
My mom blinked rapidly in that way of hers that told me she was holding back tears.
"Becca, honey… I never want you to hate me. I just want what's best for you. I just want to look out for you."
"And you have been," I told her. "You've looked out for me my whole life. But…" I looked to Nathan and smiled up at him. "I have other people in my life to look out for me, too. You shouldn't have to bear that burden alone."
A tear escaped down her cheek before she could stop it.
"You were never a burden," she choked out. "You're my baby girl and I love you."
I went to her and pulled her into a hug. I felt my dad come up from behind, place his large palm on my shoulder and lean down to kiss the top of my head.
"You're really sure about this?" he rumbled in a quiet voice.
"About moving out? Yeah. I am."
"And this young man. You're sure about him too?"
I smiled to myself. "Yeah. I'm sure."
"Well, okay, then."
My dad straightened up and cleared his throat. I let go of my mom and went back to take Nathan's hand. My dad eyed the two of us, as if sizing up the new man in my life. He didn't look entirely convinced, but there was no outright hostility, which was more than I could have hoped for.
"Mr. Walker," my dad said with a nod. Nathan went stiff, his palm going clammy. I think he realized that, now that my portion of the evening was over, it was time for his parental interrogation.
"You know my little girl is special," my dad began.
Nathan nodded, squeezing my hand tight.
"And I won't let just anyone into her life…"
"You don't get to make that choice for me, Dad," I interrupted, but my dad talked over me.
"I need to make sure you really understand what a relationship with my daughter is going to mean."
"Of course, sir," Nathan said solemnly.
