Page 198 of Spicy Ever After
“Maybe not,” she concedes, “but you don’t have to support me.”
“Well, I would if you let me.” The words are instinct. Knee-jerk. And one hundred percent true.
Silence again.
It stretches so long my heart charges into a sprint. The last thing I want her to do is pull away again.
“I’m serious, Hattie. I want to take care of you.”
“Beck—ugh!” she groans. “There’s nothing sexy about someone who can’t take care of themselves.”
Frustration and condemnation pour from her tone.
And those words are directed at herself.
“Hattie…” All of my hard edges fall away.
“I mean, why do you think I hate being called baby? I don’t want you to have to take care of me. I don’t want anyone to treat me like I’m a child or that I need to be managed?—”
“That’s not what I meant,” I interrupt gently. “I don’t want to manage you. I just want to be there for you. And—if I’m being honest—share what I have with you.”
When she goes silent, my nerves crowd in.
“It’s not much, I know, but?—”
“I want that too. But I want that to go both ways,” she says, emotion clogging the words. “One day.”
Before I can argue that she already is everything I want, she blows out a long breath.
“That’s something else Summit House has helped me with. Figuring out what I want to do. For a career, I mean.”
I want to hear more. I want to hear everything. But I can’t move on. Not yet.
“Hattie, that’s great. Really… But you’re still not hearing me.”
Pause.
“I-I’m not?” her voice is a squeak. I think I’ve shocked her.
I swallow hard. “I missed you so much. I thought you’d left me. And to learn you kept me in the dark because you were—what? Too embarrassed to tell me what was going on?” I huff out a breath. “It’s not how you treat your boyfriend. It’s—it’s not how you treat someone important in your life.”
Someone you love.
Someone you’ve given your heart to.
I can’t make myself say these words because, even though I mean them, they make us sound hopeless.
And I don’t want to lose hope for us.
“Beck… I didn’t tell you because… I couldn’t.”
I shake my head, disappointed.
“You couldn’t? Or you wouldn’t?” When she doesn’t answer, frustration goads me. “Hattie, did you even try?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
HATTIE
