By the time I’m off work for the evening, I’m starting to worry. Axel was supposed to check in earlier today and let me know how his meeting with Daddy went. But he hasn’t answered any of my texts, and Daddy’s assistant told me an hour ago that my father already went home for the day.

Should I call Axel? Did it not go well? From what we discussed and what I saw, it looked like he had a solid plan. I can’t imagine that my father didn’t at least give it a decent review. Maybe Axel got nervous and flubbed it up. I’m sure Daddy would give him another chance to present it, if so.

I just gotta talk to Axel and find out what happened.

I start driving toward his place when my phone vibrates. It’s a text from him.

Shitttty day. At Vinnies getting drinx

My stomach tightens. Oh, no. Clearly it didn’t go well. Vinnies is a seedy bar in his neighborhood, one my friends and I used to joke about going to if we ever wanted to date a criminal. The memory makes my face burn with shame—I used to joke about people like Axel, not really thinking about what it’s like being in their shoes.

Well, this is as good a chance as any to put my words to the test. I want to be with him, so I gotta accept who he is. And it seems like he might need to talk, given what a bad day it was for him.

I navigate to Vinnie’s parking lot and pull in. My car is the only one in the lot—the rest of the vehicles are massive, decked-out motorcycles. I enter the shabby building and blink at the smoke floating in the air. Despite it not being legal to smoke in buildings anymore, this bar still allows it, thumbing its nose at the law.

I can feel curious glances at me as I scour the room, looking for Axel. The place has mismatched furniture, pockmarked tables and a slab of a bar at the far end. People are laughing and partying it up, and loud rock music blasts through tinny speakers.

There he is. I spot him on a stool, hunched over, staring down. I take the seat beside him and rest my hand on his upper back. “Hey,” I say, and he turns to look at me. His face is etched in stone, his eyes bloodshot. I can smell the booze pouring off him—he’s clenching a glass of amber liquid. “You okay?” I ask.

His snort of derision is loud. “Ask your father how I am.”

My throat tightens. “I’m here and I’m asking you.”

He sways in his seat as he spins to face me. “He didn’t even listen to me. It was a fucking joke.”

“Maybe there was just a misunderstanding,” I find myself saying. Surely lines got crossed somehow.

“Kendra. No misunderstanding.” He takes a deep swig to finish off his drink. “He didn’t think I’d actually show up for the meeting with anything real for him to look over. Shoved the plan back at me without listening and offered to pay for a class at the community college.” Axel lets out a bitter laugh. “Your dad is a real piece of work.”

Did my father really treat him this way? When I told him about Axel’s idea, he seemed so interested. But why would Axel lie?

He wouldn’t. The despair coming off him is real. My dad fucked him over. He betrayed me and Axel, made us think that the offer for a meeting was genuine. I’m filled with mortification and anger, emotion sweeping through my bloodstream and making me clench my hands.

“Let’s get you home,” I murmur.

Axel waves me off and looks for the bartender. He’s swaying more now. “I am home,” he says in a surly tone. “This is where trash like me belongs, right?”

Can I blame him for being pissed? I am too. I’m seeing a new side of my father, and I feel ashamed of him. Ashamed to be his daughter.

“Please?” I ask Axel. “Just…come with me,” I say, reaching over and touching his arm. “This isn’t the way to deal with this.”

He huffs a hard sigh through his nostrils then gives me a curt nod. I square up the bill with the bartender and manage to get Axel into my car. He’s nearly passed out by the time I get to his driveway, and it takes a couple of hard shakes to wake him up enough to wrangle him into his house.

Axel flops onto the couch, and then he’s out cold. In sleep, the deep lines etching his face are gone, and he looks innocent, all his anger gone.

But mine is building, festering in me. I’m so damn mad that I’m almost vibrating with my anger. My father lied to me. Flat-out told me one thing and then did another behind my back. Does he think I’m stupid? That I wasn’t going to find out how he pulled one over on me and Axel?

I get back into my car, gripping the steering wheel as I drive home. Is this how he runs his business? These aren’t the ethical actions of a man who raised me to be better than this. How well do I even know this man at all, if he can treat me and others this way? Where is the respect for others he ingrained in me?

I make it home, pull into the driveway, and dart up the stairs. Daddy is sitting in his den, having a scotch.

“Hi,” he says cheerfully, as if he hasn’t flipped my entire world upside down through his actions. As if I’m stupid and don’t know the machinations he’s done behind my back. I feel sick just looking at him.

“You are unbelievable,” I spit out. That gets his attention; he stiffens in his luxurious leather chair. “Why would you do that to Axel?”

He releases a slow breath. “So you’ve talked to him. Okay. Sit down, Kendra,” he says, waving me toward the couch across from him.

I’m not going to sit down. I won’t be docile and obey what he says. I just cross my arms and glare at him. “I’m comfortable where I am, thanks. I want you to answer my question.”

“You’re really angry with me,” he says, his eyes widening in surprise. He looks genuinely taken aback. “Honey, I’m just trying to protect you. Axel could never work out in the long term for you.”

“So…you decided the best strategy was to lie to me and make me think you were going to help him—”

“I never said I would help him,” he interrupts.

“Don’t do that,” I say. “Don’t act like you didn’t deceive me. I’m sick of your snobbery. Sick of the way you’ve treated him. You taught me different than this—that we aren’t supposed to view our family wealth as making us better than anyone else.”

He grinds his teeth. “You’re twisting things now.”

“No, you are. And I’m fed up with it. With the way you’re trying to run my life. I’m disappointed in you,” I say flatly. Then I turn toward the door.

“Everything I am doing is to protect you,” my father says to my back. “It’s because I love you. People like Axel, they are going to hurt you if you let them. He might be a nice guy, sure, but he isn’t made for serious relationships. He’s just going to break your heart. You have my word on that, Kendra.”

I pause with my hand on the doorknob.

“Unfortunately, Daddy, your word doesn’t mean as much as it used to.”

I leave the room, clicking the door behind me. My body feels tired suddenly, like I could sleep for a week. So I stretch out in bed, my brain unable to shut down despite my desire for rest.

I can’t help but worry about Axel. Ache for him, for the pain I know he’s feeling about this. The look on his face when he was telling me what my father did… And sadly, I did this to him, even though it was unwillingly, unknowingly. I brought him what I thought was a solid opportunity, and then my father ripped the rug out from under us both and insulted him.

My stomach churns, and I press a hand to my belly, flipping onto my side. If I’d known my dad was going to be so cruel in his dealings with Axel, I never would have brought the idea to him.

I held my dad on such a high pedestal. Basically worshiped him. Eagerly learned about the business, emulated him for years and years. Tried to make him proud in all my ventures, both academic and personal.

And in the end, I don’t really know him at all. In the end, he’s just another fallible human being. Subject to his own prejudices, his own biases. Willing to manipulate people just to get what he thinks is best. No better than anyone else. Certainly no better than the people he claims he’s trying to protect me from.

My heart gives a painful throb, and I realize I’m crying, hot tears sliding down my cheek and onto the pillowcase. Something has changed in me today, some piece of myself broken apart and crumbled into dust. And I can never get it back. That naïve faith I used to have in my father, it’s gone.

I kick off my shoes and slide under my blanket. If I close my eyes, I can remember the feel of Axel lying beside me. I’ve only known him for a few weeks, but in that time, he’s come to mean a lot to me. The thought of him hurting makes my own heart hurt.

I’ll find him tomorrow. We’ll talk about it. This shit with my dad was messed up, but the business plan is still solid. We can look at approaching banks, or maybe other people I’ve come to know since working for my father. Lots of wealthy people who like investing in up-and-coming local business. I should know—Daddy’s had me schmoozing them.

Feeling a bit rallied, I wipe the last of my tears and feel my heart lighten in its sorrow, just a bit. This can be fixed. We’ll just have to try other avenues, is all. My eyes are growing heavy, so I give in and let sleep carry me away.

* * *

I’m nervous as I step into the shower the next morning, stomach twisting over itself. I haven’t heard from Axel at all, which isn’t like him. Is he mad at me because I was the one who set up the connection with him and my father? Surely he knows that I had the wool pulled over my eyes too, not just him.

I lather up my hair and rinse, shave until my body feels smooth. Take my time putting on lotion, sliding into my dress, doing my hair and makeup. I will be collected and sensible when I see Axel, not emotional or irrational. I don’t know what’s going on with him, and I don’t want to make assumptions.

Hopefully he’ll be open to hearing me out on us presenting his business plan to others. But if not, I won’t force it. He has a right to make up his own mind and do things at his pace. I’ll support his autonomy in a way my father clearly hasn’t given to me.

The thought of my dad sours my mood. I leave the house without going down to breakfast and risk seeing him—I’ll grab coffee and a Danish on my way.

I stop at a gas station and get what I want, then drive to Axel’s house. The whole time, I’m trying to not let my nerves get the better of me. He and I will be okay, and we’ll get through this.

All the rest of the shit, I’ll figure out later. Things will work out.

His motorcycle is in the driveway where he left it before he went to Vinnie’s. I exit the car and knock on his door. When he answers, my heart does that familiar skip it does every time I see him. His dark hair is mussed with sleep, a light scruff on his face. His eyes are wary when they lock on mine. “Kendra.” His voice is wary too, not as warm as I’d hoped it would be.

“Um.” I shift in place. “Can I come in?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He leans back and pushes the door open, and I step inside his house. It’s clear he is uncomfortable with me; he hasn’t reached out to touch me like he normally does, and he’s distant as hell. The wall around him is almost visible.

“You feeling okay?” I ask as we make our way to the couch.

He shrugs. “Been worse.”

“Axel…” I begin.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine, Kendra. Don’t worry about me. I should have seen it coming. The person to blame here is me for dropping my guard and forgetting my place.”

His words, delivered so flatly, with no emotion, stick in my chest. I want so badly to reach over and touch him, to get the comfort of his fingers in mine, but it feels like we’re sitting miles away. “This isn’t your fault,” I tell him vehemently. “My dad was the jerk here. What happened was unacceptable. I’m just sorry he treated you that way. You deserve better.”

Axel sighs and leans back away from me, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Whatever. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” I say, then draw in a deep breath. “So, I had some ideas on where we can present your plan—”

“Kendra,” he says without looking at me. “No.”

“But I can help you—”

“I don’t want your help. And there is no ‘we.’ We were a hot one-night stand that got confused and complicated. Never should have happened.” He’s speaking like there is no connection between us, like he never felt anything. Like we’re a mistake.

I feel like I’m being hit by shrapnel, small cuts all over me that dig into my skin and burrow their way deep. “That’s not true. I know you’re just saying this because of what my father did.”

“No, this isn’t just about your father.” He scrubs the back of his head. “This shit isn’t working for me. I’m not a relationship kinda guy. And you and I, we were never gonna last. We both know it.”

Pride fills me with anger at his words. “Are you serious right now? My dad dicks you over, so you decide to dump me.”

Axel looks square at me. “This isn’t working for me, even your dad aside. I saw my father a while ago. Visited him in prison, told him about your company’s deal. He said he wanted to take it, wanted to sell the house.” He pauses. “I didn’t tell you because I don’t trust you.”

That knocks the air out of my lungs. “What?”

“You’re loyal to your father first and foremost,” he says evenly. “Daddy’s girl through and through. You’re always doing what your father says—no one would ever be the top priority in your life because you’re too busy living to please him.”

The words hit me uncomfortably in the chest. Echo the very thoughts I had last night. And it makes me mad, because Axel knows me so intimately, and clearly doesn’t give a shit about what was developing between us. The anger slides into my skin, pulls me out of the sad shock that was threatening to take over. “Well, since we’re coming clean with our perceptions of each other,” I spit out, “you’re being ridiculous in trying to keep up this ‘Beckett code of honor’ that no one in your family even lives by anymore.”

His eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare. “The fuck you say?” he grits out through a clenched jaw.

Good. I let his anger fill me, bolster my own. “You keep talking about honor and pride, but you’re using it as a crutch to keep your family at arm’s length. They hurt you, made you feel abandoned, so you act like you’re some kind of warrior bravely holding down the fort. But truth is, they evolved, and you aren’t. You’re clinging to some outdated notion without looking at the damage you’re causing by refusing to bend. Maybe your brothers all recognized that your code of honor was toxic.”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he growls in a warning tone. “Mind your own business.”

“Oh, you mean the way you manage to make broad assumptions about me and my relationship with my father? Right,” I scoff. “Grow up, Axel. You should patch things up with your brothers. They’re good people, and they care about you. You keep them away through your own actions, not because of anything they’re doing to you.”

“I like how worldly you sound about things, given that you have no idea what it’s like to make your way in the world alone.” The words are delivered softly, but they hit their mark. “You have your daddy’s money, his credit cards, even the job he gave you. When the fuck have you ever had to worry about how your bills were going to get paid? You have no idea what life is really like, living in your pampered existence. You’ve never had a rough day, not like the rest of us.”

I just stare at him, so many thoughts and feelings pounding through me. I want to cry. I want to scream. But the worst part is, he’s right.

No, the worst part is, this is the end of us.

I was naïve to think it could ever be otherwise. And worse still, we’re proving my father right.

I feel nauseous.

I stand, struggling to keep the wave of emotion threatening to burn my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I’m not going to cry in front of him. I will hold some semblance of dignity here. “Okay then.”

He doesn’t move from his spot, just stares at me. Silent.

“Goodbye, Axel,” I say, then turn and leave. Close the door behind me. Get in my car. Drive away.

I head toward the highway and just drive. His words are echoing through my head, shaming me, infuriating me. He’s so arrogant. And he’s so right. And I want to hate him for it, for poking holes in my careful image of myself.

I thought that he didn’t just see me as some rich, entitled girl. But there I was, sneaking him into my daddy’s mansion, forcing him to dress up and interact with my father so I could pretend we could fit together.

Jumping on the business plan he made because it gave him “legitimacy” and purpose that I thought my dad could support.

Deep shame and frustration fills me, and I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. And now the tears fall, hard and fast, and I’m sobbing and not trying to hold it in anymore. Because my heart hurts, and everything has changed. I can’t go back to the girl I was before I met Axel. I can’t blindly live in my bubble of privilege and innocence.

My phone is vibrating. It’s my father texting me. I ignore it—I’ll be dealing with him later. For right now, I just need to process it all. Come up with a plan of action.

Everything has changed, and it’s time for me to change along with it.

* * *

The hours of driving in the quiet have helped. By the time I arrive home, it’s late afternoon, and my mind is clearer. Not that my heart is feeling any better—it’s broken and devastated. I want to curl up in bed and sleep until the pain fades, but I can’t.

Time to put on my big-girl panties and deal with my life.

I go to my room and hop on my computer, beginning my search. A couple of leads look promising, so I dig up my resume and update it, then fire it off, sending a silent prayer that something comes of one of these jobs.

I know I can’t work for my father anymore. Not after all of this. I can’t even stand the thought of being around him right now. Though when he gets home, we’re going to be having a hard talk.

When I texted Michelle asking for advice earlier, she told me there’s a vacancy in her apartment building, on the floor above hers, and she has an in with the landlord, who’s her mom’s best friend. So I have an appointment tomorrow to visit the place.

I’m sure it’ll do just fine. I’ve been to her apartment before, and it’s a good space in a nice part of town.

The nice thing about working for my father while living at home was that I could put aside the bulk of my paychecks, so I have a nice little nest egg to start. Not to mention the money I’ve saved while working in college. It’ll be enough to get me on my feet for a few months while I adjust to my new life and find a job.

I fold my laptop closed and look around my bedroom. I’m starting all over. It’s scary as hell…but there’s an excitement that comes with my sudden independence. I can do this. I’m strong and capable.

I head downstairs when it’s dinner time. Daddy is sitting at his usual spot. His gaze is wary as he looks at me, and he gives me a small nod.

“I’m not staying for dinner,” I tell him, standing behind a chair. “I wanted to let you know that I’m going to be moving out.”

He didn’t expect that coming, given the expression of surprise on his face. “Look,” he says slowly, his tone deliberate. “I know you’re upset with me, but you don’t need to make any rash decisions.”

“I also quit,” I continue. “I’m giving my two weeks’ notice, and I’ll bring in my official resignation letter tomorrow.”

This stuns him into silence.

“Well.” I turn to leave.

“Wait,” he says, standing and coming up to me. His brow is furrowed. “Kendra, I know you’re incredibly upset with me, but you’re acting out of anger.”

“No, I’m acting out of self-preservation and pride,” I retort. “Don’t presume to tell me how I feel. I know what I’m thinking and what I want.”

“Don’t twist what I say.” His voice is rich with frustration, and he scrubs the top of his hair.

“I’m not. I’m also not interested in discussing this right now. I have a lot of packing to do, and I don’t have anything else to say to you.” I leave the dining room, hearing him sputter after me, but I don’t turn back.

When I get to my room, I’m shaking, and I sink into the chair at my desk. I’m officially going to be on my own, like it or not. It’s time for me to find my own strength and take control of my life.

* * *

It feels like I blink and everything’s changed.

Like mere seconds have gone by.

In reality, it’s been weeks, but most of the time I’ve been so overwhelmed and stunned by everything that I’ve done…everything that’s happened to me.

It’s like I’m just catching my breath, finally, when I stop and take the time to truly reflect on how different my life is now.

I’m sad, deeply sad, but at least I’m not totally alone.

“Cheers,” Michelle says, clinking her plastic red Solo cup against mine. She takes a sip of the rum and Coke I made and smiles. “Your bar is coming along nicely,” she says with a laugh. “This isn’t well rum.”

“Top shelf for you, baby,” I tease as I sink onto my couch cushion. It’s been three weeks since Axel and I broke up, since I confronted my father that I was leaving and quitting my job. I moved into this apartment a few days ago.

There isn’t a lot of furniture yet—a couch, chair, coffee table, some lamps, a small kitchen set and a bedroom set. But it’s all mine, bought with my own money. I’ll fill the rest in as I can afford it.

There’s a statement I never thought I’d have to make. Affording things was never even a minor consideration before now.

Michelle looks around at my living room. “It’s coming along nicely! So, how was your first day of work?”

I was hired on at a competitor of my father’s, entry level, making a lot less than I was when I worked at my dad’s company. The manager was excited to have me join on though, and everyone there is friendly and welcoming. I spent the day getting acquainted with the accounts we’re working on and seeing what I can do to help keep things moving along. Over the next few days, we’re coming up with plans on new accounts we can take on and how I can assist in that as well. “It was…good,” I say with a smile. “It’s nice to feel jazzed about my growth potential there.”

We chatter about a variety of things. She tells me about a couple of bad dates she went on recently, and we laugh over how they ended up unfolding. I’m not at all ready to date, not when I still ache for Axel so badly that I can’t breathe for it sometimes.

I miss him terribly.

Does he even think about me?

The question haunts me every day. I want to go to him and show him how I’ve changed. That I’m my own woman—I have my own apartment, a new job, a bank account, even my own credit card (with a very low limit, but that’s fine—I’m building real credit). But he probably wouldn’t care about it. In his mind, I’m still far too different than him, despite my budding independence.

Michelle stretches and yawns, puts her empty cup on my coffee table. “Fuck, I’m tired. Gotta get my ass in bed. Morning comes awful early.” She stands and hugs me, then heads out.

I clean up after us then pour myself one more cocktail, setting back into the couch and streaming music through my portable speaker from my phone. It’s so weird and hard living on my own. All those things I took for granted that I’m doing for myself now. My dad’s cook, Bettina, and I have been texting since I moved out, and she’s teaching me how to make easy recipes on my own. Thank God for her.

I invited her to come over for dinner tomorrow night to taste the meal I’m attempting—lasagna. She warmly agreed, thanking me for the invite and saying she’ll bring a side dish. Hopefully it’s big enough to serve as a possible meal, in case I screw up the main meal.

She asked if I was inviting my father. I know she’s trying to get us to talk, unhappy with the tension between us, but I can’t do it. I’m still so mad and hurt by what he did, how he treated Axel. I’m not ready to see him, even though he texts me regularly asking to talk. I don’t reply.

It’s been weeks since I spoke to Daddy or to Axel. I feel like a completely different person than I was before everything went down, before I made these huge changes. But that deep sadness, that ache for Axel, it hasn’t gone away. No, it’s still there, haunting me in the thick of night. Whispering to me how he probably isn’t thinking about me at all, even though I can’t get him off my mind.

Hell, he wouldn’t know how to find me in person even if he wanted to. I’m not at the same home, the same job. The only way to reach me is via my cell phone, and that’s been painfully silent.

It’s fine, I tell myself. I get off the couch and change into jammie shorts and a tank top. He still was a catalyst for change for me, and I can at least be glad about that.

I try to let that lukewarm thought warm me as I slide into my cold bed and close my eyes.