Page 18 of Priceless
Tears blurred my eyes, and I blinked them away.
I needed to get upstairs before he came back because he forgot something and found me crying. It never ended well. He’d think I was crying over the sandwich, and the last time I’d cried over food in front of him, I’d barely been able to eat for a week because he told the staff exactly how much food to give me.
My thoughts went down a familiar spiral, and I knew from experience it was easier to just let it happen than to fight it. Why had mom and dad done this? Why had they given Frank and Laura power over everything until I was thirty-five?
I would have said it was a joke, but I’d seen the documents. Plus mom and dad’s signatures. It was real. And those documents said that Frank and Laura held custodial power over my finances until that age. It was why I couldn’t leave and live on my own—they wouldn’t let me have enough money in my accounts to get my own place, even if I didn’t want to live in the home that was rightfully mine.
Technically Frank and Laura still thought my flower business was a hobby. As long as I didn’t show them too much money, they never questioned it. Because they didn’t consider that I could have that kind of ambition.
It was why I had to pay Sally a salary that was far above what a normal manager might have, because she had an account on the side that was for me. With a debit card attached to it. I didn’t deserve her.
I’d even offered to make her co-owner of Entendre, but she’d declined.
Isolde and Trinity knew, of course, but they didn’t know. Not the day-to-day digs and the level of control they held over my life. And I didn’t want them to know. Not really. Because they were a bright spot, and just like those Alphas, I didn’t want them to feel any kind of pity for me.
And there was nothing they could do. Why would I want my friends to feel as helpless as I did?
I curled up in my favorite chair and slowly ate my soup. It was good. It wasn’t enough, but it was good. I already knew I wasn’t going back to the kitchen tonight. Not if there was a chance Frank would see me. I just didn’t want to deal with it.
The words hurt more than I wanted them to, even if I’d heard them a hundred times before.
I didn’t hate my body. I might not love it, but I didn’t hate it. There were good days and bad days, like everyone had. What I really wished was that I could love my body. But the truth was, no matter how much I wanted to love it, I didn’t, because Frank, Laura, and even Jason, were right.
I wasn’t small. I was fat, and no one wanted a fat Omega. I’d resigned myself to it a long time ago. I was healthy and I took care of myself. My body was simply bigger, and though I’d accepted it, it didn’t fill the aching hole in my chest wishing someone would look at me the way Isolde’s Alphas looked at her. Hoping that someone would love me even though I looked like this.
Praying that maybe someone could make me believe that I should love myself as I was, instead of trying to make myself smaller to fit into a world that didn’t want me. Wanting someone who would be able to scoop me up and allow me to feel cherished and precious even if I wasn’t what everyone thought I should be.
A single tear slipped out, and I slapped it away.
No.
There’d already been too many tears over this, and I didn’t want Frank to think he’d gotten to me. I wasn’t a pretty crier, and if I started now, even in the couple of hours before I needed to meet him in his office, he would know.
Nope. No more crying.
I finished my soup and grabbed one of my sketchbooks to work on a party we’d been booked for next month. The client had some pretty ideas, and I had some thoughts. I wanted to give her some sketches and a list of possible flowers on Monday.
Due to my… limitations, I didn’t manage or even design every event. But there were some who came to me because they knew through word of mouth about my hybrid work, or my knack for creating meaning with the language of flowers, and asked for me specifically. I loved it when that happened.
Maybe in a few years I’d be able to expand and do more things myself. Sometimes I felt like I was rotting inside this house. I wasn’t a prisoner, technically. They allowed me to leave. But Frank and Laura asked so many questions every time I did that I had to decide which things were worth it. Like going ballgown bowling with Trinity and Isolde.
Glancing at my phone, it was almost six. The last thing I needed was to be late and get a lecture on top of what Frank wanted to talk to me about. Whatever it was, I doubted it was good.
As soon as I approached the door to his office, I heard Laura’s voice. Fuck. Them together?
Good thing I didn’t cry. Because I might have to do it later. Trying to master the fear and dread in my stomach, I closed my eyes and knocked.
7
COMMON IVY
MEANING: ENDURANCE; DEPENDENCE; MARRIAGE; MATRIMONY
OCEAN
________
“Come in.”
