Page 111 of The Truth of Our Secrets

“How public?” Emmet asks.

“Press conference public. That way, there’s nothing for Peter to use against us. I’ll admit to my unfortunate marriage to him and how we had a mutual consensual relationship with Madyson. And then we ran into you, years after we met, and the three of us are in a committed, polyamorous relationship.” He holds our lives in his hands. “If you’re ready for that. If not, it’s fine. I don’t have to mention you by name.”

Emmet’s silent again. Baby Girl’s nails dig into my arm, but we give him the space to consider it.

He wordlessly kisses us.

I need him to understand the depth of our feelings and the life we intend to build with him.

It’s nerve-wracking. Not sure if he’ll see this as a positive or negative. It’s pointless for him to struggle under the weight of his family. I gather my thoughts on how to start the conversation.

“I grew up in a low-income family,” I say, and his breath halts. “When my father lost his job, his addiction to alcohol was more important than us. So he took off.”

“That sucks.” His brown eyes express support, along with his blunt words.

Madyson plasters herself against my chest.

“My mom had to work a couple of jobs to support us. As the oldest and only boy, she depended on me.” I’m desperate for him to see the similarities and not hear this as trying to one-up his horrific childhood. “My situation was nothing like yours, but I understand how hard a person can work in a system designed for them to fail.”

He shifts up and over us so he blankets my back and I’m surrounded by them.

“People think the poor are lazy, but they work so hard not to go under.” I suck in a breath and steel myself for his reaction. “It triggers my anxiety when you refuse our help and money.”

He’s silent and I’m grateful he’s not arguing with me.

“Let us help you stay above the line. We can open a joint account without minimum balance requirements attached to my accounts. And I’ll link it to a small savings account in case of an overdraft.”

“I can’t—”

“Why can’t you? It’s what partners do. I invested in Madyson’s gallery. She’s paying the bank first, then me. I’m not in favor of it, but it’s our compromise. Couples combine resources so everyone is financially healthy.”

Madyson props herself up on her elbow to see him better. “We respect your need to be self-sufficient. You’ve worked so hard. Let him, us, make it easier.”

I lie flat, pulling them on me.

“It doesn’t seem right.” His fingers drum on my chest.

“Do you feel like I owe you because you helped me through my panic attack when we filmed the spot for Page Seven at the gallery?”

“No. That would be stupid,” he scoffs.

“But you have an emotional resource I need. You give me something so I can handle my anxiety. Why is money different? I appreciate you’re not after our money.” It’s comforting and maddening.

He considers my words. Madyson’s eyes beg to let us make his life easier.

“You would never let your mother lose her house, right? Because she’s your mom and you think it’s the right thing to do. You don’t expect anything in return because you love her. It’s the same for us. We can’t watch you struggle when we can help.”

Now he sucks in a breath.

“She’s family.” His eyes question me.

“We love you and want you to be our family—Madyson, you, and me.” He’s so young and I wouldn’t blame him for not being ready to commit.

“Oh.” He blinks.

Madyson twists her hair around her finger. “This isn’t emotional blackmail. We can keep our feelings out of the conversation about money.” Her finger is white from the lack of circulation. “Does that make sense?”

Emmet takes her hand and unwinds her hair so her finger returns to its normal color. He takes his time answering, and its torture. We won’t recover if he decides he doesn’t feel the same. It’s a huge leap from regular dating to dating in the public eye to hearing confessions of love. We probably should’ve spaced out this conversation.

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