Page 118 of Ransom

I do care what they think of him.

So I tell them all of it.

"Oh," Janey says, dropping to sit on the bench again. "I can't decide how I feel about that."

Becca hums and crosses her arms over her chest. "He was being noble. Like he always is. But he went about it like a fifteen-year-old kid."

"You're right," Janey murmurs. "It's not fair to hold him to the standard I have for him now. The Ransom we know is a man of integrity. A man who would do anything for the people he loves. That part, at least, seems to be the same as when he was younger. Because he obviously loved you and didn't want to hurt you. And in his fifteen-year-old mind, he figured making you hate him was better than you having to face any lifelong consequences."

"I set my boyfriend's jacket on fire when I was fifteen," Becca says out of the blue. Janey and I turn to stare at her.She grins. "He said something jerkish when we were out with friends. I got pissed."

"Um… okay?" I have no idea where she's going with this.

She rolls her eyes and explains, slowly, like I'm five. "Teenagers are lunatics, even when life is mostly okay. It'shormonal. And even though he had more life experiences than most up to that point, he still wasn't grown. So with his limited perspective, he wouldn't understand the consequences of that choice. He wouldn't understand how awful it is to have someone tear you down that way. Especially at seventeen. He wouldn't understand the damage those words would do."

Huh. "It's funny how talking with someone can give you a whole different perspective on life."

Becca nods knowingly. "I'm wise as shit."

I pinch my lips together to stop from laughing. Janey just casually backhands her in the stomach, then turns to me.

"That situation I told you about? The one that made me marry Jonas? I was living in a homeless shelter. I fell for a man who lied to me. He conned me and took everything I had."

"Shit."

"Exactly. Instead of reaching out for help, I decided keeping it a secret would be the smartest option. I'm an adult. And still, that was the best idea I could come up with. So maybe I get it." She puts a gentle hand on my knee. "And I get loving someone, falling for them completely, and getting your heart stomped on. It makes you feel so…" she scowls as she searches for the right word. "Small. Small and worthless."

"So what you're saying is I'm not a fool for forgiving him?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit," Becca says.

"It actually shows a lot of maturity on your part," Janey says, looking all kinds of earnest. "Forgiving people is hard. I'm still working on it with my dad. He wasn't a very good dad for a very long time."

"What does 'not very good' mean?"

"He was a drunk for most of my life. He's sober now, and he's been working really hard to make amends. He comes to family gatherings and tries to be there for important moments." Janey'seyes get distant. "It's not perfect, but we're building something new."

"How do you do it? Just... forgive?" How do you reconcile with a dead man? It's not like I can get angry with him. Scream at him for helping to break my heart. We'll never get to have that argument. I'll never get an explanation or an apology from him. Never hear his side of the story. All I have to go by is Ransom's version of things.

Do I think he'd lie to me? Probably not. But it's still second-hand information, filtered through someone else's experience.

"I don't think it's about forgetting what happened," Janey says, bringing my attention back to her. "It's more about accepting that people can change, that they can try to do better." Janey fidgets with her sleeve. "My dad missed so much of my life, but he's here now. Sometimes that has to be enough."

"I get that. I just..." I stare at my hands. "Part of me understands why Dad did it. He was trying to protect me. But he took away my choice. Our choice."

"Parents fuck up," Becca says bluntly. "Even when they're trying to do the right thing."

Becca's words hit hard. The truth of that statement settles into my bones as I think about Max, about the choices I'll face raising him.

My hands clench in my lap. Max is six now, but someday he'll be fifteen, just like Ransom was. What if he falls for an older girl? What if she's about to turn eighteen? The scenario plays out in my head, and my stomach twists. Would I make the same choice Dad did?

Max is so young, so innocent. His biggest concern right now is whether we'll let him stay up late to watch a show. But one day, he'll face real choices, real consequences. And I'll be the one standing between him and potential disaster.

Dad must have been terrified. Looking at his teenage daughter falling for a younger boy, seeing all the ways it could go wrong. The legal implications. The social fallout. The potential damage to both our lives if things went sideways.

I close my eyes, trying to remember his face when he caught Ransom and me together. Ransom's right. There was fear on his face. He wasn't just being controlling or mean—he was trying to protect both of us from making choices that could have destroyed our lives.

But by protecting us, he destroyed something beautiful. Something real. The memory of Ransom's kiss in that field still burns, even after twenty-five years. Dad took that away, and manipulated Ransom into ending it.

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