Chapter 33 #2
Infuriating. How well he knew me. “When I was really little, I wanted to be a doctor,” I said in a small, embarrassed voice, my eyes darting away.
“An oncologist, specifically,” I added, feeling immensely uncomfortable with this situation.
“But that is so outside of the scope of reality.” I waved my hands, refusing to go into the specifics of why, still looking away.
“Hannah.” Beau’s voice was strong. Urgent. No longer amused. “Look at me.”
I took a breath, preparing, then looked at him.
I waited to see the edge in his expression, the placating he might do because underneath it all, he was a good person who wouldn’t cackle like my mother had when I’d told her my dream.
Nor would he tell me I was “too stupid and too poor” to be a doctor like Waylon had.
There wasn’t a hint of anything but a kind of anger that didn’t entirely make sense.
“Why in the fuck would you becoming an oncologist be outside of reality?”
I bugged my eyes out at him, realizing that he was serious. He was Beau. He was breathing. Clara wasn’t in the vicinity. So, yes, he was serious.
“Um, I hate to be an asshole, but remember the oncologists you met with Clara?” I asked, hoping the reminder wouldn’t upset him.
His entire form stiffened. “I remember every fucking meeting with them in great detail,” he gritted out.
I nodded, hating that I was bringing him back to such a dark place to make my point. “And remember the kind of people they were. Now look at me.”
“I’m looking right at you, Hannah,” he said seriously.
And he was. He was staring at me so hard, I might’ve disappeared or grown roots and sealed to that spot forever.
“I’m looking at an intelligent, driven, compassionate, and fucking remarkable person.
Parents would be lucky to have you sitting across from them, fighting for their child. I know I would’ve been.”
My stomach pitched as I felt all the breath leave my body. The conviction that Beau was speaking with was airtight. He believed that with his entire core.
It went against what I was told my entire life. Outside words that had sneaked their way inside and turned into things I’d told myself.
Not worthy. Not smart enough. Not cultured enough. Certainly not wealthy enough. Not special enough to get a scholarship.
“You don’t mean that,” I murmured, ducking my head. “You’re just saying it to be nice.”
Beau’s hand grasped my chin, forcing my gaze upward to meet his steely stare. “I don’t say anything I don’t mean. And I don’t say things just to be nice.”
I smiled sadly. “You say nice things to me all the time.” A slight exaggeration, but if you graded on the curve of Beau not saying nice things to anyone, it was relatively a lot.
“I mean every fucking thing I say to you, Hannah. They just happen to be nice.”
I bit back a smile.
“Why aren’t you studying to be an oncologist?” He squinted at me.
“Well, first of all, I didn’t even have enough funds to finish nursing school,” I sighed. “Although now I have just enough. But just. Being an oncologist is years of more study, hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
I released a long breath. Finally, Beau was seeing sense. He understood that for most of us, some dreams deserved to stay there.
“You’ll finish nursing school.” He ran his index finger along my jaw. “We’ll look into scholarships, student loans. I’ll look at getting a mortgage on the house—”
“Are you fucking crazy?” My hands went to his lips, the only way I could stop him from talking. “You are not mortgaging your and Clara’s home for some dream of mine.”
Beau placidly released my hand, laying his lips on the inside of my palm. I was still getting used to his casual, tender gestures. They still awakened butterflies in my stomach, made my skin warm.
I still had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t in some kind of incredibly intricate dream or drug-induced hallucination.
“First, I don’t think I’ve heard you cuss before.”
“I’m your nanny. Of course, I’m not going to cuss.” I rolled my eyes. “That would be incredibly irresponsible to do around Clara.”
I didn’t add that I didn’t curse anywhere or at any time in my life because it reminded me of my mother, and those words coming out of my mouth tasted vile.
Though I’d heard the way some people like Calliope cursed, like four-letter words were punctuation, somehow managing to make it sound elegant and badass.
“Clara is nowhere to be found, baby,” he murmured. “I like it.” His beard brushed my jaw as his lips nuzzled my neck. “Gonna have to find ways to get dirty words coming out of that beautiful mouth.”
My pussy dampened at his words.
To my disappointment, he removed his mouth. “Getting back to my point before I fuck you senseless,” he said, eyes clearing of that hazy desire that made me crazy. “Our house.”
He drew in a slow breath. “Since leaving the place I grew up in, I haven’t lived in a home.
This is four walls with furniture. Clara is my home.
” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “You came here. You started burning candles, bringing in flowers. Laughter. You made this house a home, Hannah. It isn’t one without you.
So yes, we will mortgage our home if that’s what we need to do to ensure that you realize your destiny of being an oncologist. And yes, I realize I said the word destiny, and I hate myself for it. ”
I didn’t even laugh. Couldn’t even move.
The world was tilting. Blurring. Tears ran down my checks, and heat sank into my palm as I realized I’d been pinching myself so hard I was drawing blood.
Beau let out a sharp hiss, noticing it because he noticed everything. “What the fuck, Hannah?” He lifted my bleeding hand up to examine it.
“I pinch myself,” I explained robotically. “When I’m with you. Clara. When I’m happy. When I feel like I belong. When I feel safe. Loved. I pinch myself because I don’t trust that it’s real.”
“You’re not dreaming, baby.” Beau pulled my bleeding palm to his mouth, kissing it delicately. “I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure that you don’t have to hurt yourself because you can’t trust that something good is happening to you.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “But if we’re really doing this—”
“We’re doing this,” Beau interrupted fiercely.
I smiled mildly, as if all my wildest dreams weren’t coming true.
“Okay, but you understand to become a doctor and specialize in oncology…” I did some rough mental math in my head.
“That’s another decade of study.” Saying it out loud was daunting, terrifying, and expensive.
“That’s not tenable. I’d have to be away from you all for too long, not to mention the added expense—”
“We’re not letting money be the reason you won’t follow your dream,” he barked. “We’ll figure it out. And as much as I want to soak up every moment of life with you, no matter that I’ll miss you like crazy, I’ll never let my needs get in the way of your dreams.”
My breath left me in a whoosh as his words made impact. A verbal sucker punch. He was effortlessly putting his needs aside, without thought, for me.
“But my dream is you too,” I whispered. “And Clara. A family. That’s all I could ever need.”
“We will be here. Forever,” he vowed. “But I don’t want my woman settling for all she could ever need. I want you to have everything you could ever fucking hope for. No conditions. No limitations.”
I smiled at him. “I have it. Right here. Under this roof.”
He smiled back. For the first time without shadows. “Me too.”