I try to soften my tone even further. “That’s… new. You used to say college isn’t necessary—that real-life experience is more valuable than a piece of paper. What changed?”
Her jaw clenches, the mounting frustration clearly apparent on her face. Part of me wants to drop the subject and sweep her away in a night of mind-numbing orgasms, but another, bigger part wants to push this a little. Not just because we’ve been doing a lot of the orgasm thing lately and I want to prove to her that’s not all this relationship is, but also because it’s clear she needs to get better at communicating about difficult topics. I can only guess at the horrific communication Steve pushed on her—likely either none at all, or simply forcing her to accept his opinion—so this is exactly one of those things she needs to recalibrate for a healthy relationship.
So as much as I want to take back my question and borderline accusation, I don’t. I just hold her gaze and wait for her answer.
When she realizes I’m ready to wait for a real answer, she clenches her jaw and says stiffly, “I grew up, that’s what changed." Then she narrows her eyes at me. “You went to college for the same reason. You know you couldn’t have gotten your current job without your business degree, so why are you picking on me?”
I never stop massaging her foot as I hold eye contact and say gently, “I would never pick on you, Hailes. I just want to have a conversation. And you’re right, I did go to college to get a degree so I could get a job. But I knew the job I wanted, and I knew I needed a degree to get it. So there was a clear purpose. The reason I’m asking about school for you is because the job that you want was placed in front of you on a silver platter, and nowhere does it require a college degree. So, I’m wondering, why stay in school? Why not drop out?”
Her eyes widen at that. “Drop out?” she squeaks. “That’s insane! I’ve already put in two years, I can’t stop now. Plus, it can only be a good thing to have a bachelor’s degree on my resume.”
“That’s true,” I agree on a nod. “But not only is that degree not necessary for the career you want, but it might actually be stopping you from accepting your dream job. You know you wouldn’t be able to spend enough time on school if you took over for Stacey; you’d have to focus all of your energy on the café. So why not do that? Why hold so steadfast to this college idea that never seemed like your thing anyway?”
She glares at me and pulls her feet off my lap. “Sorry we can’t all have our career plans laid out perfectly in front of us. Some of us have to fumble through our choices and hope that we end up on the right one before the age of forty.”
I ignore the distance she’s trying to put between us and grab her around the waist so I can lift her into my lap. She doesn’t try to pull away, but she continues to sit stiffly.
“I’m not judging you for fumbling through anything,” I murmur as I brush her hair over her shoulder and press a kiss to her collarbone. “We all fumble, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just trying to point out that for whatever reason, you’re so hell-bent on college that you’re not looking at the big picture—or mainly, the major opportunity in front of you.” I tighten my arms around her waist and pause to kiss along her shoulder. “I just want you to be happy doing whatever it is you want to spend your day doing. I think that means running your own café, but if I’m wrong and it’s actually getting your degree so you can go after something else, then I’ll support that too. I’m just trying to push you a little.”
She relaxes slightly in my arms, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Part of me was expecting her to pull away from me again. And because we seem to be making progress with this conversation, I take a chance and push a little bit further.
“Did Steve tell you that you needed a degree?” I ask quietly.
She stiffens. And then pulls away, just like I was scared she would.
She unwinds my grip from around her and stands to put some distance between us.
“Iamcapable of doing things without a man’s input, you know,” she says coldly. “I know you and Remy think Steve had some kind of hold on me and influenced every decision I made, but I'm actually intelligent enough to be independent.”
“I know that,” I say softly. But, sensing I’ve pushed her too far, I don’t mention the fact that I think she still has way more bits of Steve’s influence woven into her psyche than she even realizes. That I think Steve had her so fucked up, that I’m pretty sure she does subconsciously need a man’s input for big decisions. That that’s the reason I’m pushing her to justify staying in college when the opportunity she wants is staring her in the face, even though I know she just wants to play it safe by continuing to do what she’s doing—what she was told to do.
“I don’t think you do,” she snaps. “I think that’s exactly what you’re implying. And I don’t appreciate it. Just because Steve was a manipulative asshole doesn’t mean I somehow became a meek woman who can’t make her own decisions anymore. And I resent the idea that my own boyfriend thinks that of me.”
“Hailey, I would never—”
“I thought you of all people would understand,” she rasps.
I shoot to my feet in a panic. I’m on her in an instant, cupping her face in my big hands and murmuring, “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I would never think that of you. I…” I hesitate and swallow roughly. “I think the world of you. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m sorry I suggested Steve is the reason you’re in school, that was out of line. I was just trying to understand.”
She deflates in my arms, leaning into my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. She just feels tired.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she whispers. “I don’t like fighting with you.”
“Okay, baby, we don’t have to,” I murmur, stroking her hair in what I hope is a soothing caress. Despite wanting to push her past her comfort zone, I hate upsetting her—I always have. Even when she was a kid, Hailey stressed out made me stressed out.
She tightens her hold on my waist and burrows her face into my chest. “Let’s just watch a movie or something.”
I smatter kisses across her hair. “Whatever you want to do, baby girl.”
So we spend the rest of the night watching movies, curled up in each other as if we’re both desperate for the closeness to fix the space that our argument put between us.
And all night long, I can’t shake the dread that Remy may have been right.
* * *
I’m stretching on the mats, lost in my own thoughts when I hear, “Hey, man, wanna do a few rounds in the cage?”
I snap out of my daze and turn toward Aiden. “What? Yeah, sure, let’s go.” I grab my sparring gloves out of my bag and step into the cage, ignoring the look Tristan shoots me. I wrap up my hands and take the center of the space.