Chapter 23 #2
Giving Ford a blow job wasn’t exactly a hardship—the times I’d done it, I’d barely gotten started before he’d pulled me off him and fucked me into oblivion—so this was a no-brainer. “Deal.”
We were quiet for long moments before I murmured, “You miss her?”
“Yeah,” he answered without hesitation.
“Can I ask what’s going on with your dad?” Any previous mentions of him had been short and unemotional—as if Ford were commenting on the weather—which only increased my curiosity.
“Not much to tell. He’s like he’s always been—absent.
I don’t know if you remember, but my mom handled everything when we were young.
Ran the resort, took care of us kids. Took care of him when he was too drunk to take care of himself.
Tried to cover for him with us, too. At least now we don’t have to deal with that because we don’t expect his presence anymore.
Don’t count on him to be around. Less disappointment for everyone that way. ”
“You don’t ever see him?”
“Nope. Not since Mom died. Beck and I swing by and drop off things for him once a week, but he’s never so much as acknowledged it.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Only because it bothers Beck and my other siblings, but I’ve sort of accepted that this is how it is.” He shrugged. “I don’t like to dwell on shit like that, so I don’t.”
And here I’d spent the past however long thinking he’d had it easy. That his demeanor was because he sailed through life without a care. But his mom had died far too young, and his dad had abandoned him for all intents and purposes. Ford had never had it easy. He just hadn’t let it define him.
There was so much more to him than everyone else saw…than he allowed people to see. But he’d shown me… Opened up in a way I wasn’t sure he’d done with anyone else.
“It’s hard to miss someone who was never really around, but I miss the idea of a relationship we’ll never have, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” I knew all too well, having spent too much time wishing for parents who would love and support me. Wishing for any other parents but mine.
“What about you? Your mom ever do anything like this for you?” he asked, tracing his fingers along my palm.
I snorted. “Uh, no. Nurturing wasn’t really her style. Or my dad’s. They focused more on tough love…minus the love.”
Ford stiffened behind me, just the subtlest change in his posture. “How long’s that been going on?”
“Let’s see…my birthday’s in September, so…almost thirty-two years?”
“Jesus, kitten. I never knew. I thought—”
I shrugged, swallowing the lump in my throat at the anger in his voice.
Just knowing he cared enough to be upset on my behalf warmed something inside my chest. “No one did. And they worked hard to keep it that way. Narcissists are great at putting on a mask for the world. Pretending everything is fine—that they’re the real victims, and I was the problem. ”
“How bad was it?” he asked, his voice strained as if he had to force the words out.
“Not…awful. They didn’t physically abuse me.”
He swore under his breath. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. They hurt you?”
In sneaky ways…ones that were so hard to articulate. Ways that had taken me years with my therapist to fully realize.
“Nothing my therapist couldn’t help me work through.”
“ Kitten .” It was a single word, but his tone said so much. Tell me and Let me be here for you and I want to kill them all wrapped up in two syllables.
I blew out a deep sigh. I’d never opened up like this with anyone in my personal life. Only my therapist knew these parts of me, and that had taken years of building trust before I’d felt comfortable sharing.
But somehow, it didn’t feel scary with Ford.
I didn’t wonder if he’d believe me. If he’d make me out to be the bad guy like my parents were so good at doing.
If he’d think I was overreacting. Didn’t worry he’d see me as weak for striving to be better for them instead of myself.
For not taking charge of my life sooner.
Somehow, I just knew he’d support me.
“I wasn’t who they wanted me to be,” I said.
“Who they thought I should be. And I got really good at listening to what they were saying. So much so that I started to believe it. I was too fat, too tall, too driven, then not driven enough… Too smart, then too dumb. They found a way to criticize me for everything . And the trickiest part was they kept moving the goalposts. In one breath, they wanted me to dumb myself down so I could find a husband. And in the next, they told me I’d never make anything of myself if I wasn’t valedictorian. And when I wasn’t…”
“Fuck. No wonder you hated me.”
“I didn’t hate you,” I said, meaning it this time.
“You didn’t like me.”
I shrugged. “It was just hard coming to terms with everything, especially when I’m still living with the repercussions of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“All my plans hinged on my achieving that. So when I didn’t, I ended up at my sixth choice for undergrad because that was the only one that gave me a full ride, and I didn’t get into Harvard Med.
It was probably a pipe dream, but I kept thinking that maybe if I had gone there, my parents would finally be proud of me. ”
“They should be proud of you anyway,” he said with a hard edge to his tone. “You’re here, trying to buy your own practice.”
“Only because a small-town medical clinic was the best I could do. But at least it’d be mine. Or it would be if Dr. Dicknose stopped fucking around and agreed to sell already.”
“He’s still dragging his feet?”
“He’s refused to even look at the proposal I sent over.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally voicing the thought that had been bouncing around in my head for weeks. “What if we did this all for nothing?”
“We didn’t,” he said firmly, his tone laced with something I couldn’t name. “We still have Chelsea’s wedding.”
“Right.” The whole reason he’d agreed to this in the first place. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“What if I like you when you’re not?”
“I can do that, too.”
He hummed low in his throat, then said, “Your parents are complete shitheads.”
It was so out of the blue that I couldn’t stop the laugh from bursting free.
He shifted me so I was straddling his lap and wrapped his arms around me, holding me against his chest. “I’m serious. You don’t have to put up with it. You shouldn’t . In fact, next time they call, I’ll answer the phone and tell them to fuck off.”
“I can’t just…stop talking to them.”
“Why not? You’re amazing, and they’re assholes for making you doubt that. Why would you want to invite that into your life?”
“I don’t,” I murmured, but I didn’t know how to tell him that part of me felt like I didn’t deserve to be free of them.
Part of me believed their lies. And part of me—the little girl inside still desperate for her parents’ approval—still yearned for the kind of loving relationship I now knew they’d never give me.
Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, he said, “You shouldn’t listen to anything they say, kitten. You’re gorgeous and kind and so fucking smart. And if I have to tell you that every day for the rest of your life until you believe it, I will.”
My eyes burned as I let his words sink into me. Could it really be that easy? To just…stop talking to them? Put up a boundary and cut off that part of my life—the part that only ever brought me pain and suffering—and be rid of them once and for all?
I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure it was something I could actually do, but knowing I had his support if I ever chose to lightened something inside me.
I snuggled into his chest, letting him hold me. Letting him comfort me after I’d been weathering this storm on my own for so long. He tightened his arms around me, dropping his head so his lips pressed against my neck. After long moments, I shifted to sit back, but he just squeezed me tighter.
“Not yet,” he murmured into my neck.
Tears clogged my throat for an entirely different reason as I relaxed back into him, closing my eyes as I returned his embrace.
Had I ever felt this cared for…this loved…this precious…in my whole life? I didn’t think so. In fact, I knew so. This was a first for me.
And how sad was it that I was finally feeling it now with the one person I wasn’t supposed to keep?