"Grant, look at the past week. My father disowned me. Your ex-wife destroyed my investment opportunity. My entire life has imploded. And now you're standing here, offering me a solution that would make me completely dependent on you."
"It's Victoria's manipulation," he says desperately. "She's trying to drive us apart. Can't you see that? This is exactly what she wants—for you to push me away…”
“I can’t do this. I can’t lose everything that I am?—"
The silence that follows is deafening.
I can see the hurt on his face. The way he flinched as if I’d struck him. And God, I want to take the words back. Want to cross the space between us and tell him I didn't mean it.
But I did mean it. That's the worst part.
"I have given you nothing but love and support," he says finally, his voice rough. "I’ve never tried to control you. Never dismissed your work. Never made you feel small.” He pauses for a moment. “In a partnership, when one person is struggling, theother steps in. I'm not trying to buy you or control you or turn you into your mother. I'm trying to be your partner."
"To me, your money and your help and your generous investments all mean the same thing—that I failed. That I couldn't do it alone. That I need a man to rescue me like some pathetic damsel who can't save herself."
"You're not a damsel," Grant says, and there's an edge to his voice now. Frustration bleeding through the concern. "You're a woman who's been dealt a shitty hand by my vindictive ex-wife. Accepting help doesn't make you weak, Emma.”
I look up at him, at the desperation in his eyes, and feel so horrible.
Because he means it. Every word. He genuinely believes this is the way it’s supposed to be. Believes his money can solve the problem without creating new ones.
And maybe with someone else, it could. Maybe someone who didn't grow up watching their mother disappear into a marriage where she had no voice.
But I did grow up watching that. And I am terrified of it.
"I can't," I whisper.
His hands tighten on my shoulders. "Can't what?"
"Can't let you fund Essence. Can't take your money. Can't—" The tears are falling faster now, my vision blurring. "Can't be with someone who makes me question everything I am."
"Emma, no." His voice breaks. "Don't do this. Don't let Victoria win. Don't let your fear destroy what we have."
"What we have is already destroyed. There are too many things stacked against us."
"We haven't lost anything." His hands slide from my shoulders to cup my face, gentle despite the desperation in his eyes. "We still have each other. Still have the twins. Still have?—"
I pull away from his touch, and the hurt on his face is devastating. "I can't do this." The words tumble out, desperateand final. "I can't become her. I can't wake up in five years and realize I gave up everything for a man. Even if that man is you."
"Emma—"
"I can't be with you."
The horrible words hang in the air between us.
Grant's face goes white. "You don't mean that."
But I do. I hate it, but it’s true.
"I'm sorry." Tears stream down my face, making everything blur. "I'm so sorry, but I can't. I can't take your money. Can't accept your help."
"So that's it?" His voice is hollow. "You're ending this? Ending us? Because I offered to help save your business?"
"I'm ending this because staying with you means losing myself. And I can't survive that, Grant."
The hurt in his eyes is a knife in my chest, sharp and unrelenting.
But I can't take the words back.
