This is wrong. All of this is wrong. The way Thad talks to me, the way he makes decisions for me, the way he treats my education like a hobby and my dreams like inconveniences. The way he's demanding to meet Romeo, like I'm a possession that needs to be guarded.
I think about what Romeo said in the coffee shop.Maybe you shouldn't have to be.
Maybe I shouldn't. But I don't know how to not bethis. This is the life my father planned for me. This is what's expected. And I've never been brave enough to want something different.
After dinner, Thad suggests we go back to his suite, and I have a feeling that I know what he's expecting. But I'm exhausted, emotionally drained, and I just want to go home. I don’t want to fend this off.
"I have a lot of work to do tomorrow," I tell him. "I should get back."
"It's only nine o'clock." His hand is on my waist, pulling me closer. "Come up and stay for a while. I want more time with my fiancée.”
"I know, but?—"
"Savannah." His voice is low and intimate. "I've missed you."
He kisses me outside the car, and it's more aggressive than usual. His hand slides down to my hip possessively, and I feel myself tensing.
"Thad—"
"Come up. Just for a little while."
I should want this. He's my fiancé. We're getting married. This should feel natural. Exciting, even, that he doesn’t want to wait for our wedding night. I should feel just as eager.
But all it feels like is an obligation. Like something I'm expected to do because I'm wearing his ring.
"I really need to go," I say, pulling back. "I'm sorry."
His expression hardens. "You're always tired lately. Always busy. Always making excuses."
"I'm not making excuses. I'm just?—"
"Is it this Romeo?" The question is sharp and accusatory. "Is that why you don't want to be with me?"
"What? No. Thad, that's?—"
"Because if something is going on?—"
"Nothing is going on." I force myself to hold his gaze. "He's just a classmate."
"Then prove it. Bring him to lunch tomorrow. Let me see that there's nothing to worry about."
I want to argue. I want to tell him he's being irrational and controlling, that he has no right to demand this. But I'm too tired to fight. And part of me—a small, traitorous part—wants to see what happens when Thad and Romeo are in the same room.
"Fine," I say. "I'll text him tonight."
"Good." Thad kisses my forehead, and it feels patronizing. "I'll see you tomorrow. Noon. There's a place in SoHo I want to try."
I spend the ride back to campus staring out the window, feeling like I'm drowning. I text Romeo when I get back to my room.
Savannah:Are you free for lunch tomorrow? Around noon?
His response comes within minutes:What's the occasion? Studying and lunch?
I bite my lip.Thad wants to meet you. He's visiting for the weekend.
There's a longer pause this time. Then:I see. Where?
Savannah:SoHo. I'll send you the address tomorrow morning.
