PRESENT DAY
BRANDON
The pool house is miserably hot on our last night in Marisol Bay. It almost makes me look forward to the biting Chicago air tomorrow. It’s the first week of March, so itshouldalmost be spring, but Chicago winters have a nasty habit of sticking around.
Even though it’s after ten p.m., Kate is still being held hostage by her parents in the main house. They asked to talk privately after dinner in their opulent study, and she agreed. Although I’m worried, I’m also proud of her. The way she’s carried herself throughout this trip is different than I’ve ever seen. Sure, she’s always appeared confident, but that seems superficial now.
The quiet surety she carries now doesn’thaveto be loud.
Sheets stick to my skin, and I huff a breath. After slipping on some shorts and padding out to the kitchen, I twist the faucet for some cold water. But even after thirty seconds, the running water is still lukewarm. I curse.
The main house shines like a beacon through the window, glowing with the promise of air conditioning and ice water.
I snag a linen shirt off the couch as I pass, buttoning it until I’m partially decent. I steal across the patio in my bare feet. Through the glass wall, I can’t see any signs of life in the living area. Liza and Cam must already be upstairs.
I crack open the patio door as a glacial blast of air washes over me. The relief is so instantaneous, I shudder. Sneaking into the kitchen so as to not disrupt any of Kate’s family, I find a tall glass and head to the sink. The water runs icy in a matter of seconds, and I guzzle a whole glass before refilling it.
I’m halfway to the door when the thought occurs to me that there’s no point in sweating like a pig while I wait for Kate.
Sipping from my cold glass, I sink down onto the luxurious leather couch. My fingers drum on the armrest as I try to replenish the water I’ve sweated out. I’m on my third glass when muffled voices escalate from down the hall. A protective instinct for Kate surges through my legs, but I stall.
Kate doesn’t want me to fight her battles, but she also might need me right now. My steps are barely a creak as I approach a cracked door. The glowing sliver of light stripes across me from the pretentious study. Kate sits in a wide chair while her parents are banded together behind the desk.
“We’re not going to change our minds, Katherine,” her dad practically spits. “That boy is going nowhere, and you’d have to be a fool not to see that.”
“You can hardly call a twenty-nine-year-old man a boy,” Kate retorts. “And who I choose to spend my life with isn’t up for debate.”
Spend her life with?
The unbelievable words hit me to the chest so forcefully, I almost stagger. I rub the foreign warmth behind my sternum—thick, heavy, and spreading like wildfire.
The last few days since Kate told me she has feelings for me—real ones—have been a dream. Being able to touch her again, make her laugh and blush, and be privileged to experience the warmth of her solid alliance has me pinching myself. My pathetic white-picket-fence side is already running rampant with what activities we could do back in Chicago, and I can’t deny I’m super excited for her to finally meet my mom.
And while she hasn’t exactly expressed the depth of her feelings yet, she’s apparently doing so right now with her mom.
“Well,” her dad snarls, “your inheritanceisup for debate. We will not support someone so argumentative coming into our lives.”
“He’sargumentative?” Kate rises from her chair.
Her mom also stands. “There are plenty of more established men out there. What about Tanner? Why don’t you rekindle things with him?”
Kate’s laugh is derisive. “You’vegotto be kidding me. This whole thing is a joke, right?”
“Do we look like we’re joking, Katherine?” her dad snaps. “End things now, or you can kiss your inheritance goodbye.”
“I don’t want your money!” Kate finally breaks. “I’veneverwanted your money! All I’ve ever wanted was to connect—haveanytype of relationship with you, really—but you both make it damn near impossible.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and it breaks me. “I’ve only ever wanted your love, but nothing I do is ever good enough.”
Kate’s mother takes a moment to mask her surprise. Her voice is silk as she rounds the desk to Kate.
“Of course that’s not true,” she says. “We love you in your own right, Katherine. We just wish you’d make different choices for yourself. Sure, we accept you, but can’t we also want more for you? Does that make us bad parents?” Her pursed lips could pass for a pout.
Kate stands silent, shoulders slumped. Her mother runs a manicured hand across her arm.
“Just think of the future we could have,” her mom says. “Summers, right here in this beach home. Grand babies running about, card games, family nights…” She sighs. “I want that. Don’tyou, Katherine?”
Kate doesn’t refute the idea, and I can see her eyes misting over from here.
“Then don’t do this to us,” her mom says, drawing her into a tentative hug and continuing to murmur against Kate’s hair. “End things with him. That man is not worth upsetting our family dynamic over. He’s not worth it.”
