‘Stop arguing,’ she interrupts. ‘I’m not saying tomorrow. I’m not saying next week. But you bring her when you can. Don’t let the first woman who’s made you blush in years slip away because you’re scared.’
‘What if it doesn’t work out?’ Even voicing the fear makes my stomach churn.
‘What if it does?’
I stare at her.
‘You’ve spent your whole life acting like you’re already ruined. Like love is something that happens to other people. Like your shitty past has decided your future. But you’re alive. You’re here. You’ve got a woman who makes you weak, and you don’t want to pursue her because of this world of fallacy you’ve built up.’
God, she may as well just kick me in the shins already.
Gran softens a touch. ‘So stop being a coward. Do something terrifying for once.’
I’m not about to admit that I nearly got murdered at the wedding and fed a dickhead to a bunch of pigs.
But it’s good to know my Gran stands behind me if I choose to pursue Maggie. Assuming she’d even be interested after I asked her to be a secret.
I wouldn’t blame her if she slammed her door in my face.
THIRTY-SEVEN
MAGGIE
My pulse could powera small village by the time I push Dad’s office door open.
I’t been two weeks since I last saw him, dancing with Priscilla and looking loved up at his wedding. I’ve vowed to be more present while he undergoes his treatment, and I’m sticking to my guns.
Seeing him isn’t what has me all in a tizzy, though.
It’s what I’m about to do.
Dad looks up from his desk as I burst in. He slides his glasses low on his nose and smiles when he sees me. He’s looking a little thinner, and my resolve wavers.
‘Maggie, you’re back so soon.’
‘I am.’
He takes off his glasses, folding them and putting them on the polished desk. ‘And to what do we owe the pleasure?’
I still feel small standing in front of him as I didwhen I was five. The years might have passed, but I’d never learned to take up more space around him. I feel just as helpless as I did then.
It’s time to remedy that. Time to take up some motherfucking space in this family.
‘I’m not doing it,’ I say.
The words come out steadier than I expect.
‘Not doing what, love?’
‘Any more of this. I’m not stepping into the business. I’m putting up with being forced into becoming someone I don’t want to be. Listening to you all making fun of me at every god damned family event because I’m different. I can’t do it anymore.’
My dad watches me, his face unreadable as sweat coats the back of my neck.
‘I’ve given you all almost thirty years, and I’m not giving you the next thirty. Not for murder.’
My hands curl into fists at my sides as I use up my last ounce of rebellion.
‘Fuck tradition,’ I say. ‘Fuck your rules.I don’t want this.’
