She shakes her head. “Please don’t promise that, because there will be a time that you do.”
“I won’t purposefully hurt you,” I correct myself. “I’m a fan, I’m a cheerleader, I want nothing but good things for you and I want to watch it all unfold. Every goddamn second of it. I want to be there for you.”
“And what about when you have to go home?”
“That’s something I’m working out.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallow the lump of nerves in my throat. I haven’t gained the courage to talk to my father yet, but I know it’s there, resting inside me, ready to come out. I just need to do it, cut the strings and tell him I don’t want the life he’s laid out for me. Renley has shown me that there are possibilities for making a fulfilling life, and that I don’t have to follow in my father’s footsteps. There are actual opportunities for me to have a life of my own, not one that’s been set up for me.
“I’m figuring things out on my end with my father.”
“Really?” she asks.
“Yeah, but it’s just going to take a moment. There’s a lot that goes into it. But what I know for certain is that I don’t want thelife he’s set up for me. I want so much more. I want the freedom this summer has given me.” To bring it full circle, I continue, “Which means I want you to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.” I kiss her knuckles again. “You can trust me, love.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. I wish she could develop that trust with me. I wish it was already there and that she wasn’t so guarded, but then again, that’s how she’s been this entire time. And I’ve been slowly working my way into her life, as much as she’s allowed me to do so.
After a few seconds, she looks away and speaks softly. “I have a challenging relationship with my aunt. She was there for me when I was growing up, when my dad passed, and even after that. She’s cheered me on with my endeavors and she’s encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone, which I’m grateful for. But along the way, she’s disappointed me, she’s broken promises, and she’s made me the parent in the relationship, when I should be the kid.” Oh shit, I had no idea. Her eyes meet mine and she continues, “It’s been like that almost my entire life. Just like my dad, she’s relied on me to be the provider, to be the one who takes care of us, and she’ll dream up big ideas but leave me to be the one that sees them through while she moves on to the next thing.”
She shakes her head and looks out toward the car park.
“It was supposed to be me and her doing this candy shop together. The reason you’re even here is because she said she had the money, but she didn’t, so she signed me up on this website. And once I found the money, she just…stopped helping and moved on. She keeps ditching me and making promises and not keeping them, and today we got into it. She doesn’t have the money to pay for things, so she relies on me for that, which is fine, but she won’t even try to get a job. She thinks she’s going to be the next great influencer—which is not a bad thing—butI need her to find stability while she does it because I’m doing so much and I’m overworked and exhausted and…” She pauses, looking me in the eyes. “Shit, I’m overloading you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you bloody apologize. There is nothing to apologize for. I can see why you’re frustrated. It’s not easy being the grown-up, especially when it’s not your position in the relationship.”
“It’s not.” She shakes her head. “And we got into it before we left. I told her hobby horsing is not a career, she made a mean comment about the house being her house, not mine…I think I’m just letting my frustration with her get the best of me.”
“Because she was supposed to help with the shop?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She rests her head against her seat. “She was supposed to do a lot of things, one of them being finding a job to help with bills. But she’s spent the summer trying to grow her hobby horse skills, which, okay, I’m happy she has a hobby, but do it after hours. And it’s just so reminiscent of what my dad would do, so it’s triggering. Ugh, this is stupid, I shouldn’t be dragging you down into all of this. I’m just frustrated.”
“You’re not dragging me down. I get it. I know what it means to have someone promise you something and go back on that promise. It’s the only thing my father knows how to do really well. It sits with you and eats at you.”
“It does.” Her eyes fill with tears again. “Shit, I don’t want to cry.”
“Sometimes you need to,” I say. “Crying helps you get it out. You can’t sit on the emotions and wish them away. You have to actually feel them so you can move on.”
Her tears fall, and instead of wiping them away for her, I let them stain her cheeks so she can experience the emotions flowing through her. Stuffing them away hasn’t helped. And when she goes to wipe the tears away herself, I stop her.
“Don’t. Let them stay there. Feel them.”
She closes her eyes, more tears streaming down her cheeks, silence falling in the car.
I sit there, hold her hand, and wait, giving her the space to soak this all in, to feel.
Has she ever done this? Cried? Let out her pain? Who would she have talked to, given that her dad and aunt have been the sum of her people…so it seems? And it makes sense now why she’s so strong, why she hides behind bravado and weariness. She’s been let down so often, but she hasn’t been able to party and fuck and drink those frustrations away…like I have. She’s had to adult since she was too young to adult. And that’s so fucking unfair.
It also makes more sense why she wasn’t enchanted with my fun-loving, lighthearted self. Because she could see plain as day that I’d never had to rise up against my circumstances. I just avoided them.
“I wish it was different.” She sniffs. “This is such a shitty thing to say about the person who was there for me during some of my darkest times, but…I wish she was more reliable.”
“It’s okay to love someone for what they’ve done for you, Renley, but be upset about their failures as well. No one is perfect, but there’s a standard that we hold our loved ones to, and if they’re not living up to that, you don’t have to pretend that everything is okay.”
She swipes at her face, gathering her tears on her finger only to wipe her hand on her shorts. “I don’t want to be irritated with her. I just feel let down and this…is a huge thing in my life. She’s not taking any interest in it.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
