Page 100 of Wallflower
“And I could keep doing it. I could stay here and negotiate a part-time position with the Fury so I can keep covering my dad’s therapy bills and still have time to run a studio.”
“No.” Chord scowls. “You’re better than that job. I don’t want you to have to do that anymore.”
I smile sadly. “Staying is the selfless thing to do. The responsible thing. The safe thing. Probably even the right thing. But…” I close my eyes and dig deep for strength. “But if I stay here instead of taking the chance to live a life I’ve always dreamed about…” I shrug and scrub another tear from my cheek. “What will happen then?”
Chord stares at his hand where it rests on my leg. “I never want to be the reason you look back on your life with regret.”
I snatch up his hand and press his fingertips to my lips. “I could never regret you. That’s not it at all. But Chord… If I stay, I’ll always wonder if any success I have is mine. If I’m here in California, designing in a studio you bought for me, starting a career I never had to work for, how can I be sure that I earned it? Deserve it? Am worthy of it?”
He sniffs and sets his tea on the coffee table. “Can you help me understand what Milan and Leonardo Bellucci will give you that I can’t?”
My heart breaks, but I’m not going to lie to him now. “Three years of working for a world-class designer will teach me things. And while I’m there, anything I design won’t have my name onit, so if people love what I do, it’ll be because it’s good—not because I’m on your arm on red carpets or being photographed with you in private moments. I need to prove to myself that I’ve earned this, and I’m not getting it just because I’m your girlfriend.”
Chord hunches forward and drops his head into his hands, fingers clutching his hair. My heart gallops hard and fast enough to hurt, and I wish I could take back everything I just said.
“Chord, I’m sorry. I don’t mean…”
He doesn’t look up. “I hear what you’re saying, Violet, and I understand. I wish I didn’t, but fuck, I do. But if you could just see yourself the way I do. You’re extraordinary. You’re smart and driven and talented, and these people who want your designs love you for you. They might not know it yet, but they will, and you don’t have to do it alone. Let me be there for you, Violet. Let me give you the life you want. Not because you didn’t earn it or don’t deserve it, but because I want to. Because I can. Because I love you.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, letting the tears fall. “I’m so sorry.”
His head moves in what I think is a nod, and when I set a hand on his back, his muscles are hard as stone under my palm.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says, staring at the floor, “and fuck if this doesn’t make me love you more. I’ll take care of your dad. I’ll set him up with a proper job here at Silver Leaf. Full benefits. And if he doesn’t want to live permanently on the ranch, I’ll get him his own place in Aster Springs. If he needs new doctors, I’ll take care of that, too. You don’t have to worry about him while you’re gone.”
My ribs pull so tight I can barely breathe. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do.” He stares at his open palms. “If you’re going to do this, you can’t be worried about what’s going on back here.This opportunity needs to be all about you. It’s time to be selfish. You’ve earned it.”
Panic hits me as I try to work out what he’s saying, but I don’t get a chance to ask before he lurches to his feet, hand worrying the back of his neck, not quite meeting my eyes. I set down my tea as he paces a few steps from the sofa, and when I reach out like I can draw him back, he glances at my hand and then drags his focus to my face.
I’m afraid the answer to my question might be written in his glassy blue eyes.
“I can do this for you, at least,” he says. “I can give you the freedom to chase the life you deserve. Don’t worry about a thing, Wallflower. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Chord! Wait!” I throw back the blanket and jump to my feet, but he’s already out the front door. By the time I step out onto the porch, he’s jogging in the direction of the main house, and all I can do is watch him go, my throat tight and my cheeks wet.
I’ve always known this about dreams: they require sacrifice. And I think I just lost the best thing to ever happen to me in exchange for a future I gave up on a long time ago.
thirty-eight
Chord
9 DAYS TILL HOCKEY SEASON
The run from myplace should have worked the edge off my agitation, but when I thump on the door to Charlie’s office at the rear of the Silver Leaf reception house, I’m overstuffed with emotion and ready to explode.
Violet’s leaving, and I can’t stop her. She chose Milan, and even though it makes me so damn proud of her, I’ve also never been so furious—with the world, with myself, with whoever thought it would be a good idea to throw Violet James in my path, give her enough time and power to dismantle all the walls that kept me safe, then tear her away while she’s got a death grip on my heart.
Charlie calls, “Come in!” and I throw open the door with more force than necessary. My sister glances up from her computer and I pray for a fight. I could do with a little yelling. Instead, she takes one look at me, closes her laptop with a slam, jumps to her feet, and rounds the desk.
“What’s wrong? Is it Izzy?”
“What? No. It’s— Everything’s just—” I sift my fingers into my hair, then tug to send a sting through my scalp. “Fuck. What’s wrong with me?”
It hurts to swallow, and my brain isn’t firing right, so I stare at my sister until she closes the distance and guides me into one of the two chairs on this side of her desk.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks.
