Obligation is an old reflex that pulls at me. Even with Nathaniel promising to hire help, even knowing the place won’t collapse without me, a part of me still needs to check. To see with my own eyes that everything is running smoothly, that my parents aren’t drowning or silently waiting for me to step in.
He studies me for a moment, his gaze unreadable. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he says finally, his tonesoftening. “And you don’t have to worry about what they think. I’ll handle it.”
“I know,” I reply quickly. “But…I want to. It’s just lunch, Nathaniel.”
And if I’m being honest, there’s another embarrassingly hopeful part of me that wants to believe my parents might act normal for once. I know better, but the hope persists.
Because if Nathaniel truly wants a life with me, then he deserves to see all of it. Not just the polished pieces he’s fallen in love with, but the place I come from, the parts that aren’t easy, the reality that shaped me.
His lips press into a thin line, but he eventually sighs, brushing his hand against mine. “All right,” he agrees reluctantly. “But only because you asked.”
I smile at him, feeling a wave of relief. “Thank you.”
He leans in, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “Anything for you,” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.
For a moment, I let myself lean into him, the steady warmth of his presence washing over me. Whatever the day holds, I know I can face it with him by my side.
The rumbleof Nathaniel’s Aston Martin feels almost obscene as it rolls into the parking lot of Bennett’s Place. The car is sleek, predatory, and far too expensive for the humble surroundings of Ashby. He glides into a spot near the entrance, engine purring to a stop.
I glance at the building, then at the front door, where I’m not surprised to see my mother rushing out, her gleaming smile already in place. My stomach churns. She isn’t coming out for me, that much is obvious. Her enthusiasm is reserved forNathaniel—for the man she figured out, within minutes, came from money.
My fingers reach instinctively for the door handle, but Nathaniel’s sharp look stops me. “Stay put,” he commands softly.
I let my hand drop to my lap, exhaling quietly as he steps out of the car. He rounds to my side, with that smooth confidence he wears like a second skin and opens my door. His hand extends toward me, steady and sure.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I take it, letting him help me out.
My mother’s voice rings out as she hurries toward us. “Nathaniel, such a gentleman! Olivia, you’re lucky to have someone who treats you so well. I worry that all that pampering will get to her head if you keep this up.”
I cringe inwardly, my cheeks burning at her words. Nathaniel’s expression barely shifts, although I catch the subtle tick in his jaw. He wraps his arm protectively around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him as if shielding me from her words.
“She doesn’t let me pamper her nearly enough,” he states evenly, his voice carrying just enough edge to make the air around us feel heavier.
My mother blinks, clearly caught off guard by the response. “Oh, well, I’m sure you?—”
“I wish she’d let me do more for her,” Nathaniel continues, cutting her off. His gaze is calm but pointed as it flicks briefly to her before returning to me. “She deserves it.”
I find myself momentarily disarmed from the shock of being defended so openly, of being valued out loud, in front of the one person who has never spoken about me like I’m worth anything at all.
My mother’s smile falters briefly, her composure slipping as Nathaniel’s words hang in the air. She recovers quickly enough, letting out a loud, forced laugh.
“Yes, yes…well,” she says, smoothing her hands down the front of her apron, “it is such a delight to see you again, Nathaniel!”
“Likewise,” he replies coolly. His focus remains entirely on me, making it clear that his civility toward her is purely out of necessity.
Overlooking the snub, my mother’s enthusiasm only intensifies. “Thank you for coming by! I was so pleased when Olivia said you’d accepted my invitation?—”
“I’m only here because Olivia insisted,” he says, his voice calm but laced with finality. “I’d do anything she asked of me.”
The way he says it shakes loose a truth I’ve been denying: he really would give me anything, if I ever let myself ask.
My mother’s smile widens, her eyes practically sparkling with delight. I can practically see the wheels spinning in her head, already calculating how she can use this to her advantage. My stomach twists again, a familiar discomfort settling in my bones.
“That’s so sweet,” she chirps, her tone syrupy. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”
Nathaniel’s arm tightens around me. “No. And neither has your daughter.”
“Oh, of course! Skipping meals is terrible for you, Olivia,” she says to me, her voice rising with exaggerated concern. “Let’s get you both inside and fed right away. Nathaniel, you must try one of our house specials—they’re very popular.”
