He doesn’t look at me. “She told you to keep out of it. This is between me and Emilia.”
“Absolutely. She’s right fucking there. Try talking to her like she’s your daughter and not aninconvenience.”
Maybe I shouldn’t be in here. Em’s shoulders are pulled up, the pain relief keeping the edge off as she listens. “Jared is right. That’s not my home. It never was.”
He doesn’t even respond to her.
Erin speaks up, her hands folded in her lap. “Listen to your father, Emilia. Just… just for this. Please.”
George Marsters pulls something out of his pocket. “I’m willing to provide funds to ensure you’re comfortable. But you’ll be removed from any future inheritance, and there will be no further contact.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
He waves his checkbook around as if the shiny silver coating is a free pass.
To him, I suppose it is.
The check he rips out is already written, and he tosses it down on top of the bedding. “A full and final settlement, to consider the matter closed. And a very generous one.”
The asshole keeps talking, but I focus on Emmy instead. On the way she watches him. As if this process is so familiar that it doesn’t even hurt.
But then, this is the man who transferred her money to hide her black eyes, instead of returning the favor to the asshole who put his hands on her.
Although maybe I know her better than I thought. Because I can see the pain underneath her glazed look, as clear as day.
How can they not?
“No,” Emmy says finally. Her fingers move to the check, holding it between two fingers. “I don’t want this.”
“Take the money, Emilia.” Her mother finally speaks, her knuckles tightening on her bag. “You might need it in the future, if not now.”
Emmy’s shake of her head is slow. “One hundred thousand dollars.”
Everyone stills. George Marsters is first to recover, his brows drawing down. He sounds almost affronted. “The offer is far more than that.”
I can see the number of zeroes from here.
“No.” Emmy says it again. Halting, and raw, and determined. “I want… one hundred thousand dollars. That’s it. And you’ll never see me again.”
I keep my face clear of questions, even though it’s the last thing I expected.
But her father nods. “Done.”
We wait in silence as he writes out another slip of paper with a sleek silver fountain pen that he tucks back into his suit, taking the original and tucking it into his back pocket. “I don’t wish you any ill, Emilia.”
He looks at Erin. “We’re leaving.”
And… that’s it.
George Marsters walks out of Emmy’s life without looking back.
Swallowing, Emmy’s mother stands. She looks down at her daughter. The softness in her face is fleeting. “Take care, Emilia.”
“You could leave him.” Emmy stares up at her mother. “Walk away.”
Erin clears her throat. Sweeps her hands down her dress. “I enjoy my life, most of the time. I am able to live a lifestyle that I am accustomed to and would prefer to maintain, in exchange for some difficult moments. But you were never meant for this, Emmy.”
Her eyes flicker to me, and I straighten. “You were meant for something better, I think.”
