I couldn’t stand listening to my father talk about Diego as if he was a good guy, because that just wasn’t the case. I dug my cell phone out of my back pocket and opened Instagram so I could show my father some of the messages I’d been receiving. It had been a while since I’d checked any kind of social media, but it was still a shock to see how many new messages I had. Some of them seemed to have attachments as well, which wasn’t good news. Sickness rose up within me as I showed my phone to Dad. I didn’t want to look at any of them because it was all too much.
“Look, Dad,” I rasped, my emotions starting to get the better of me. “Look at all these people reaching out to me with evidence that they are still hooking up with Diego.”
Dad scoffed and refused to even look at my screen. “You will always get jealous women crawling out of the woodwork to try to ruin things. Diego is a Vanderbilt, that name means something in New York society. Many social climbers want to be associated with the Vanderbilts. They want to be a wife to get the lifestyle. You need to ignore it.”
I clicked on to the top message, which had screen shots of conversations between this mysterious woman and Diego. I caught glimpses of the words, but I refused to let myself acknowledge any more. I was hurt enough, the last thing that I needed to do was make it worse. Diego was dirt, I knew it deep inside me, and I had a feeling he would always be dirt. I couldn’t stand him; I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
“Look,” I practically exploded. “Just look at the sort of messages I’m getting. Please see it. Please just read it and tell me that you think this is fake. Is this the sort of husband you want for me? The life you want for me? All my siblings are in happy marriages…”
Dad waved his hand dismissively, as if I was wrong about that. While I was a few years younger than my siblings—I was definitely the surprise, later in life baby—I’d always thought I was close to my brothers and their lives seemed happy to me.
But maybe I didn’t know, maybe I just saw what was presented to me. That was a little bit shocking, but not as surprising as what was about to come at me next.
“Diego knows what is at stake here,” he practically growled at me. “He won’t fuck this wedding up. His father will make sure of it. You just need to make sure you aren’t the one who messes it up or I will not be able to tell you how I’m going to react.”
That wasn’t a threat, I could feel it was a promise. But I wasn’t quite done yet.
“So, you want me to just sit down and shut up?” Dad actually nodded. “You want me to just sit back and let Diego disrespect and cheat on me? Is that what you want? All for the sake of a business merger? You want my whole life to be affected?”
I stared my father down, needing him to really see me. But he couldn’t. Or he refused to. Either way, I knew I couldn’t fight back how horrible this felt any longer, and the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of my father while he was being like this with me. Tears weren’t going to make this any better. He wouldn’t have any sympathy for me, he had made that much obvious. There was nothing more for me to gain here.
I stormed inside, knocking over my glass of orange juice as I went. But I wasn’t about to stop and clean it up because I couldn’t look at him any longer. The man who simply did not give a shit about me. I always thought he had my best interests at heart, and maybe he always had before now, but he didn’t now. Not at all.
“Renee…” Rebecca called out to me as I stormed through the house. Maybe I was supposed to be meeting with her today, but I wasn’t even going to be polite this time around. I could not deal with her today, not a chance. I was done. “Renee, wait…”
But the fact that Rebecca was here meant I couldn’t even hide out in my bedroom. I was going to have to go outside to get away from everyone. I wasn’t even thinking about where I was going, I just kept walking.
Outside. Out to the garden, toward the pond that filled me with memories of Toby. He was still the only wolf I’d seen in his animal form, and that was a memory that stuck with me. But it wasn’t enough to cheer me up. I was still so hurt that I eventually took myself to the shed, where I collapsed to the floor and let it all out.
I wailed loudly, so sad that it actually broke me a little bit. My chest ached with what I was letting out. Even though I wasn’t necessarily planning on it this morning, that was my last shot at escaping my horrible life.
Now I was stuck with that future, and I didn’t like it one bit.
If I defied my father and refused to marry Diego, I would be cut off for good. He really would turn his back on me and leave me with no one. My friends were barely in my life anymore anyway, and my mom would be forced to take my father’s side. She would be at risk of being cut off as well, and she would never sacrifice the life she had.
“But what about me?” I barely even realized that I was speaking aloud, but the words flew out of my mouth anyway. “Am I willing to make that sacrifice? Will I give up my name and my family just to have peace away from the people who don’t really care?”
I wanted it to be a liberating idea, but it just scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t imagine facing life alone, I hadn’t ever really had to do it before, and the thought of it was terrifying. After what happened with Trey, I basically decided that I would always do as I was told because it was just easier that way, and I didn’t seem too good at making decisions on my own. But now that reality sucked. I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do anymore.
“What if I just left?” I asked myself as I shrugged my shoulders. “Just took off for Paris?”
Although, I couldn’t do that without my father funding it. Even with a paycheck of my own, I didn’t have enough to fund my own lifestyle. I guess my father had always made sure of that, I just never realized it until now.
“But I don’t need a fortune,” I reminded myself. “That’s not something I care about. I might not be used to living without a constant cashflow, but I can learn. I can live a much smaller life. I don’t mind that. If I had happiness, what would it matter? If I could paint and marry for love, then why would money matter? I shouldn’t sacrifice happiness for my father. Not when he isn’t worrying about my happiness.”
I breathed deeply, but it didn’t make any difference. I couldn’t seem to calm myself down. Everything I had been trying to stuff down for a lifetime came flooding to the surface in a truly shocking manner. The fact that my father really didn’t care about my happiness struck me so hard it made me sick. I didn’t think I would ever forget the blank look on his face when I tried to express my emotions to him. That would haunt me forever.
“No. You shouldn’t sacrifice your happiness. You deserve to be loved and love, Renee.”
The sentiment was reminiscent of what Lucky had said a few days ago, and what I had been thinking myself, but these words came from a different source. A source I immediately wanted to locate because I needed some advice, some kind words of wisdom.
When I turned, I saw a smiling bald-headed man with flour on his arms and apron. Wes. He was like a shining star in a really dark, cloudy moment. He was my freaking sunshine. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Wes was exactly what I needed. I needed his warmth, his caring, the way he always seemed to be able to put me first, even when my own father couldn’t. Even when my fiancé couldn’t.
Wes had walked into the shed at the exact right moment to save me from the quicksand of my emotions. Instantly I felt a tiny bit better knowing I wasn’t alone any longer.