Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
W alking up to her parents’ home felt odd.
She’d grown up in the oceanfront home and been called a spoiled princess her entire life because of it. Quinley had also taken for granted that there was always money to buy the things she’d wanted, even though she’d always resented having it used against her whenever she did something her parents didn’t like. It was their way to bend her to their will, to control her. Just like her father used her willingness—her desperate need for approval, to be the son he’d always wanted—to his advantage as well.
But right as she’d left the safety of the SUV?
Her phone had chimed, and she’d glanced down to see a text from a number she didn’t recognize. But the moment the text flashed across the screen, she knew instantly who had sent it.
To the future. Stand your ground.
Elias must have gotten the number from the group text Ana had sent to them both.
Cole had obviously talked to Ana and then told Elias of her plans and— There he was, cheering her on just like she had his restaurant idea.
Rhys’s words came back to her about her kissing Elias and why and— She shut those thoughts down, unable to deal with them right now. She had to focus on this. On this meeting, on what she knew would be an emotional barrage from her father as his temper raged over what she’d done. On where to stand her ground, as Elias had texted, and forge a new path.
Steeling herself, she tucked the phone away in a pocket and let herself into the house.
“It’s about damn time,” her father snarled from the formal living room.
She flinched at the volatile tone, at the stalking, stomping footsteps heading toward her, and lifted her chin high. She’d asked Axel to wait outside, but maybe she should’ve allowed the man entry?
Her father had never lifted a hand to her or her mother that she knew of, but God knew there were plenty of other ways to intimidate and abuse someone.
“Get in here right now,” her father said by way of greeting when he spotted her standing in the foyer. “Get in here and explain yourself!”
Quinley’s hands formed fists, and she took a boxed breath: in for four seconds, holding for four, release for four, then holding no breath for that last four. She did it once more as she walked slowly into the room with measured steps. Thankfully her father had stalked away, expecting his order to be followed—and she had. “I am not here to be yelled at,” she said the moment her foot crossed the threshold of the elegant room.
Her mother sat on one of the two couches, and Quinley met her gaze, taking a quick assessment. Her mother looked much like she had that first day at the cabin, drawn and haggard and—tired. So very, very tired. Nothing like the vibrant young woman she’d been in her wedding photos and Quinley’s childhood as years of neglect and verbal abuse and stress had taken a visible toll wrinkle fillers and Botox couldn’t fix. The hurt she’d lived was there in her eyes, in the pain radiating off her body.
“You will sit down and??—”
“No, I won’t,” she said softly, firmly, countering her father’s anger and bluster with a shockingly serene sense of calm. Now that she’d decided she was done? She just was, and that awareness, that confidence, took away the nerves. “I am a grown woman capable of making my own decisions. I decided not to marry Rhys because he wasn’t the right man for me.”
“He was the perfect man!”
“Because he’s a millionaire? Going to be a billionaire when he inherits his family’s fortune? If he’s so perfect, then you marry him.”
“How dare you speak to me like this after everything you’ve put us through,” her father raged, bellowing out the words so loudly she imagined the windows shook and the rafters quaked.
“Yet it’s okay for you to shout at me over a decision impacting every aspect of my life? You weren’t the one marrying him, Victor,” she said, using the name her father preferred she use at work. “And even though I should have called the wedding off earlier, I didn’t. That’s on me, and I own my mistake. I embarrassed you because of it, and I’m sorry , but it doesn’t change the fact that I couldn’t in good faith marry Rhys, and if you still think I should have gone through with it simply because he’s rich, that says more about you than me, doesn’t it?”
“You’ve done far more than embarrass us,” Victor spat, pacing the room to the bar cart to pour himself a drink. “We’ve spent the week in hiding. Your mother has cried all week while I’ve had to talk myself blue to keep my clients from taking their business elsewhere.”
She was afraid of that. Of the deeper impact and influence of her decision. “I’m sorry. But if those clients are so ready to jump ship, maybe you should let them go without a fight and focus on the ones who stay.”
“You think it’s as simple as all that? That the money we’d lose—the money we’ve lost —won’t matter? Any employee who loses us that kind of money is fired. Rhys graciously offered to cover that disaster of a wedding, but our reputation has been dragged through the mud because of you . People are laughing at us for raising a stupid girl without a shred of common sense.”
“Victor,” her mother said, finally speaking even though her tone was pleading.
“It’s the truth,” her father said. “No woman in her right mind would’ve left Rhys Lachlan. What she did is unforgivable. Your daughter is an utter disgrace.”
Quinley flinched at the words yet felt freed by them. By the confirmation that she’d known how her father felt about her yet the wounds he’d inflicted over the course of her life had scarred over to the point that these words didn’t hurt nearly as bad as they should have.
Quinley inhaled and lifted her chin, facing her father with clear eyes and a heart battered but beating strong and solid and secure in her chest. To the future. Stand your ground. “I understand this hurt you, both of you,” she said sliding her mother a soft glance that held more than a little pity. “But I will not apologize for making the right decision for myself, and since you deem me a disgrace and a detriment to your business, I will happily remove myself from it. I quit.”
Her father’s smirk turned into a sneer and hard shake of his head that held no love whatsoever and blatant animosity. “You can’t quit because I fired you the day of your wedding.”
A sound emerged from her as Quinley laughed. Laughed! And the shock on her father’s face at her response made her laugh harder. In an instant, she understood, saw him for the narcissist he was. He wanted her to beg, to plead with him, to do whatever it took to get back in his good graces. To make him feel powerful because he was in control—or so he thought.
“Good,” she said, still grinning as she tried to rein in her responses if only not to provoke a physical reaction from him. “You can replace me with someone you deem worthy, and they can be miserable trying to make you happy. I will be on my merry way now.”
“Quinley, no please, don’t do this,” her mother begged, tears leaking down her lined cheeks.
Quinley walked over to her mom and hugged her, whispering for her ears only, “When you’re finally fed up with his narcissistic abuse, I’ll help you leave.” Then she kissed her mother’s cheek and hugged her tight before pulling away just far enough to boldly stare into her beautifully weary gaze. “You deserve to be happy, Mama, not trapped with someone who treats you this way.”
Her father ignored their whispering, muttering to himself in a nonstop litany of their many flaws as women while he poured himself another drink and set the decanter down with a thunk. Her mother’s eyes instantly overflowed as Quinley’s words registered, and she knew she’d struck a deep, painful truth. But after so many years of marriage, years of verbal and emotional abuse, of living this life, she knew it would be hard for her mother to walk away being as trauma bonded as she was. She hadn’t worked for over thirty years, had no marketable skills. Had no money that wasn’t controlled by Victor. She was isolated—but she wasn’t alone.
I mean it, Quinley mouthed . I’ll help you.
It was the least she could do for the woman who’d done her best to be a good wife and mother. Who had remained loyal no matter what Victor threw in her face. The lies, the cheating, the snide remarks and belittling comments. Her mother had kept on and continued on, played the part Victor demanded of her through his manipulative ways, and behind closed doors, she’d suffered untold pain because of it, all the while maintaining the appearance of a seemingly happy wife because from the outside looking in, what reason did she have to complain? No one knew what went on behind closed doors. No one.
And while she had a good idea of what her mother had suffered, she knew she’d never know everything. Her mother would protect her from the worst of it because that’s who she was at heart, broken though it was.
Quinley finally straightened and turned, giving her father’s back a mocking salute as she headed toward the door. “By the way, I’m starting my own agency.”
Another hard thunk of the crystal decanter sounded, jarring all of the bottles.
“You can’t do that,” Victor snarled.
Quinley paused at the door, held his gaze with all the stubbornness and fire she possessed. “I’ve never signed a noncompete, so…I absolutely can.”