Chapter Thirty-three
Sadie
I’m sitting behind my father’s desk when he walks into his office. Early morning sunlight streams through the windows, painting his masculine desk and bookcases in soft orange hues.
Upon seeing me, he stalls in the doorway. “I knew you’d come to your senses.” He saunters into the room and lets the door shut behind him.
Rising to my feet, I hold out the envelope Ash gave me. Inside is the check and my formal Fuck you, I quit letter. “I’m here to personally hand you my resignation.”
“I won’t accept it. This is ridiculous. You belong here at the firm.”
“No, you should really open it.” I round the desk and thrust the envelope into his hands.
He turns it over for several seconds, almost as if he knows what’s inside and doesn’t want to face the evidence of his underhanded tactics. Finally, he opens the flap and pulls out my single page resignation, along with the bribery check he wrote to Ashton. “He gave you this?”
Long, turbulent moments stretch between us. “Ashton can’t be bought. If you knew him at all, you’d know that.”
His face reddens, lips pinched in displeasure, but he remains silent as he stuffs the incriminating check back into the envelope. “You naïve girl. He only did this to squeeze more cash out of me.”
I’m buzzing with too much adrenaline, and as we stand in the middle of his office, three feet apart, I clench my hands. “I don’t think you understand. This ends now. If you ever want to see me again, you’ll back the fuck off and leave Ash alone. Do you understand me?”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Sadie.”
“I mean it. If I have to, I’ll move and change my number. I’ll do whatever it takes to get this through your thick head. This is my life, and you are no longer part of it.” Certain he’s not grasping the gravity of what I’m saying, I close the space between us and straighten my spine. And though I have to crane my neck to look him in the eye, I don’t dare back down, no matter how much I’m shaking on the inside, quivering like the recalcitrant child he’s made me feel like for years. “From this day forward, seeing and talking to me is a privilege you’ll have to earn back.”
For the first time ever, my father is struck silent. His stillness is downright scary, the energy of his overbearing nature slithering under the surface, tainting the air.
I suck in a deep breath anyway. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you wouldn’t back off.”
“Because I want what’s best for you.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I decide who to marry, where to work, and who to love. I’m not a child anymore.” I’m getting caught up in trying to reason with a man who’s head is as thick as sludge. Nothing I say will get through, so I’m not sure why I bother trying.
Except he’s my father, and I hate the thought of walking out of his life to get him to wake the fuck up.
His jaw is set, the square shape of it unrelenting. The word stubborn is synonymous with my father, and his deep brown eyes are resolute with it as he moves past me to claim his throne behind the desk. “I won’t condone a relationship with Ashton. I’ve humored your friendship with the Levine twins long enough as it is.”
“What do you have against them?”
“They’re not cut from the same cloth as us. I not only expect better for you, I demand it.”
“You’re a snob.”
“Call me what you will, Sadie, but it’s my job to ensure your future. If you walk out that door, I’ll be forced to rescind your trust fund.”
“I don’t need your money.” Sadness drenches my soul, coils around my heart, squeezes the breath from my lungs. I swallow hard to get my voice to work. “And if your behavior is that of a father, then I don’t need one of those anymore either.”
His lips move, but I turn a deaf ear to his protests as I barge out of his office. Only after the doors of the elevator enclose me inside do I exhale in relief. Heading downward, I spiral into a sense of despair and disbelief. I can’t believe I just spoke to my father like that. Not only the assertiveness, but the harsh words.
And I meant every one of them.
I vow to follow through even though my throat burns from hurt. Even though my eyes are on the cusp of purging it. Empowerment rises inside me, and I wrap it around myself and use it as a blanketing shield.
Still, my heart throbs with regret, and it isn’t long before the guilt penetrates. I’m halfway to my apartment when it strikes because my mother might be innocent in this latest scheme, and I don’t want to alienate her. At the very least, I need to explain my side of things before she hears it from him. I pull over, shift the car into park, and grab my cell.
The events of the morning roar in my mind, keeping pace with the speeding cars on the highway. A full minute sneaks by before I find the courage to put the call through. She answers immediately, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing.
Was she on the other line with Dad?
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Hi, Mom.” I detect movement on her end. “You sound busy.”
“I’m in the middle of planning a fundraiser, but I could use a break.” She pauses, and I make out the shuffle of papers. “Is everything okay at work?”
She doesn’t know—about this morning or the fact that I quit my job last week.
“I’m surprised Dad didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” More papers. More movement. “Wait! Did you work things out with Jake? Maybe we’ll have that Christmas wedding after all.”
She’s just as oblivious as ever, content in her sheltered world of organizing events that further Dad’s career, cleaning his house, and looking pretty on his arm when required. Instead of feeling angry, I’m just sad. This is all she knows—all she’s ever known.
Growing up in a strict family, my mother learned at a young age the definition of expectation. My grandparents practically arranged her marriage to my father, whose family not only came from a background in politics, but a long history of wealth.
She never discovered independence, never experienced standing on her own two feet. Never learned to follow her dreams or her heart.
I’m too much like her, and until recently, I’d been as blind to it as my mother. But she won’t be blind to what’s happened now. Not anymore.
“Jake and I are done. In fact, that’s part of the reason I called. I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“Hear what? You’re starting to worry me.”
“I quit my job.”
She falls silent for too long, and I calm myself by counting the cars rushing by on the freeway.
A red truck.
A black sedan.
A dark blue SUV.
All swooshing past, oblivious to the pathetic girl on the side of the road trying to hold it together as her life detonates.
“Mom, did you hear me?”
“I heard you, but I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m done. I’m done with all of it. Dad isn’t running my life anymore.”
“Your father means well. He’s just a little overprotective, is all.”
“He tried giving Ashton a quarter of a million dollars to stay away from me. That isn’t okay.” There’s dead silence on her end again. God, she has to see how fucked up this is. “Say something,” I plead. “Tell me you didn’t know about it.”
“Honey, I didn’t know about it, but I can’t say I don’t want what’s best for you. I’m sure your father had your best interests at heart.”
“I don’t think Dad has a heart.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. He tried driving away the love of my life.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know they’re true.
And they’re terrifying. Ashton is it for me, but too much hangs in the balance still.
Corinne and her pregnancy.
And the risk inherent in turning our friendship to more. It’s a nagging fear I can’t escape because if Ash and I give it a go then crash and burn in the end, losing him will be like losing a huge chunk of myself. The pain will be a hundred times sharper than what I’m experiencing now.
He and Mandy have always been there for me, more so than my own parents. They’re a staple in my life. The gravity that keeps me grounded. The electric shock that keeps me alive. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
Without him.
It’s a crippling thought, and that’s why being stuck in this neither friends-nor-lovers purgatory hell is preferable to trying and failing.
Ash is right. I am using Corinne to protect myself.
“I’ve gotta go, Mom.”
“Sadie, wait. I—”
I hang up, cutting her off mid-sentence, and pull back onto the highway, feeling bereft and parentless. Even worse, I’m heartbroken.
But Ashton isn’t breaking my heart. I’m doing that all by myself.