I thought about the simple question for a long time. Confronting the memories of rejection and betrayal wasn’t easy. “I haven’t let myself get this close to anyone in a long time,” I said. “I haven’t let myself believe in love.”
“And now?”
Beckett hung on my words. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him I loved him, but I was still too scared. “Love doesn’t last,” I said instead.
The gleam in his eye disappeared. “What happened to you? Who broke your heart?”
I took a page from Beckett’s book and changed the subject. I sat up and swung my feet over the bed. “I’m starving. What kind of muffins did you bring?”
“Nope,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “You’re not getting away that easily. I trusted you with my deepest secret. Tell me yours.”
“I really am starving,” I said.
Beckett scooted up against the headboard and sat with his hands folded over the sheet in his lap. “Blueberry and chocolate chip.” His voice dripped with patience.
I pulled on a T-shirt and walked into the kitchen. Beckett put on his glasses and watched me open the bag. I pulled out the chocolate chip muffin.
“You want some?” I asked.
He shook his head. I broke off a piece of chocolate-chip muffin and chewed slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. Beckett waited patiently on the bed for me to speak.
“It was a long time ago,” I said.
Beckett tilted his head, watching me.
“In high school I thought I had my life planned out,” I admitted, the bitterness in my voice overriding the sweetness of the chocolate. “I was top ten in my graduating class. I had a scholarship to DePaul University, where I was going to join my high school boyfriend.” I stopped talking as the pain washed over me again. I remembered the sneer on Julian’s mother’s face as she stood on her front porch, not inviting me inside. “And then he dumped me.”
Beckett’s eyebrows rose as he waited for more. But there wasn’t any more. That was my big heartbreak—the reason I didn’t believe in love. I’d been nurturing the pain of Julian breaking up with me via his mother for so long that it had become monstrous in my mind. But now that I’d said it out loud, it lost significance. It seemed almost silly.
“What about college?” Beckett asked.
My throat burned as the memories came flooding back. “I didn’t go,” I admitted. My parents had threatened me. My friends had pleaded with me. I was ruining my life. I was throwing away a golden ticket.
“Why not?” Beckett asked. Steepling his fingers in his lap, he studied me with an intensity that made me squirm.
My stomach clenched. It was a simple question with a complicated answer. “At first I didn’t want to go to school with him, where I might see him on campus or in the city.”
“Chicago has a couple million people.”
“I know.”
“So what’s the real reason?”
I thought about my answer for a long moment. “I was never really a school person,” I admitted. “I made good grades because my parents kept me on a tight leash. I never even wanted to go to college. I was only doing it to be with my boyfriend and because my dad threatened to disown me if I didn’t go.”
I spoke in a rush. Getting all the words out felt good. My chest felt empty, relieved of an oppressing weight.
“And did he?” Beckett asked. “Disown you?”
“Yeah.” I struggled to keep the nonchalance in my voice. I remembered my dad’s face turning purple as he screamed at me, spit flying from his mouth and spraying me in the face. He’d called me a coward, a loser, a freeloader, and more. “He kicked me out,” I said. “I bounced around for a while, staying with friends until I could figure out what to do with my messed-up life. A few months later Dad tracked me down.” I paused to tear off a chunk of the muffin and crumble it between my fingers, leaving a mess on the kitchen counter.
“Did he take you back?” Beckett asked, watching me destroy the muffin.
I laughed, and the noise sounded just as hollow as I felt. “No. He presented me with a bill for $200,000, demanding I repay him for my expensive private school education.”
“I thought you didn’t go to school.”
I scoffed. “The bill started from kindergarten.”
