I grunted as I stood from crouching after dusting the bottommost shelf in front of me.
Reading about people falling in love. The more pining the better.
“Science, I guess; much to my father’s disappointment.”
Jace frowned. “What’s wrong with science?”
My sigh was wistful. “He wanted me to be a lawyer. He was a defense attorney for years and would always brag about how I was going to follow in his footsteps one day. He took on his first judgeship when I was ten.”
I stood on my tiptoes to dust the tallest shelf on the bookshelf in front of me, only to have the rag plucked from my hands by Jace, who was now standing beside me. His body heat radiated into my side as his strong arm reached up to dust the top shelf.
“T-thank you,” I stammered.
An amused smile played on Jace’s lips. “You really underachieved there, being a doctor.” He handed the rag back to me which I all but jerked out of his hands, his proximity felt intimate in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Right?” I answered, my voice breathless. I cleared my throat, focusing on dusting the shelves methodically. “I guess it was a form of rebellion if I’m being honest.”
“Is that why you’re a doctor? Because he didn’t want you to be one?” Jace asked, walking to one of the couches behind us and sitting down. As he leaned back, he rested his arms along the back of the couch causing his white T-shirt to stretch across his pecs.
Finding I’d been slowly rubbing the same spot on a shelf for way too long, I cleared my throat and sidestepped to my right to dust the fireplace mantle. “I actually wanted to be a doctor ever since my mom got sick.”
I was met with silence. So much so, that I finally peeked over my shoulder at him.
He asked me the question with his eyes.Well, what happened to her?
I took a deep breath. “She died when I was twelve. An aggressive form of brain cancer.”
Jace didn’t tilt his head or frown with excessive sympathy. “That’s a rough one, Polly. I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Sometimes when people gave you sympathy, it didn’t hit right. Exaggerated facial expressions and overly sympathetic words felt empty. Like they were only saying something to make themselves feel better. Jace merely sat quietly, watching me with thoughtful concern. He was different than the teasing, easy going Jace I’d come to know. I sensed he was giving me both the time and the choice to talk about it should I wish to. Usually, the thought of talking about my dead mother and dictatorial father seemed about as appealing as a case of shingles. But much to my surprise, I found I wanted to share that with Jace.
I let out a breath, walking over to sit on the couch opposite him. The cold from the leather seeped through my shirt and leggings as I leaned back.
“Itwasrough. It’s still rough. I’m mad. And sad. Imissher. She was warmth and light and effervescence. And for some reason, she adored my father. She made him laugh. She appreciated his quirks. When she died,” I took a deep breath in, the ache in my chest overwhelming for a moment before I started again. “When she died, my father changed. I was never allowed to grieve her. He became colder and domineering, caring more about his career than his own kid.”
Jace leaned forward slowly and put his elbows on his knees, an implacable expression I’d never seen on him before etched in granite across his face.
“What did he do?”
His tone was low, rumbling in a way that made me squeeze my thighs together. Between his voice and the cold leather, I crossed my arms in an attempt to hide my peaked nipples, sending up my thanks to whoever invented the padded bra.
“Nothing like you’re thinking. About a year after my mom died, when he thought I was being too rebellious, he moved me to a private school. Granted, my rebellion came in the form of me inviting Leah over for a sleepover and when he said no, I tried to sneak her in through that window.” I pointed to said window in the corner. “Of course, he found out and Leah wasn’t allowed to come over again for an entire year, and even after that, her visits were few and far between. Once my father won a Knoxville appointment for a judgeship, he was only home for a few hours, every couple of days. So, for the better part of the next five years, it was mostly just me, the housekeeper, and the grounds crew. My life was school, home, homework, repeat. I thought it’d be better after moving out right after high school, but he continued to be controlling over my life in little ways.”
“How so?”
“He offered to pay for my college and med school. At first, I thought that would be great. I’d be out of the house to do as I pleased and still be debt free. Or so I thought. I started to get emails from his assistant, passive aggressive comments about how I was expected to act and what would happen should I be seen stepping out of line—like going to a party. Little threats that he’d take away what had been given, should I not do what he asked.”
“Is that part of the reason why you call him father? At first, I thought it’s because you’d lost your accent, but now I’m not so sure.”
I opened my mouth in protest. Why, I didn’t know. I had lost my accent.
“I’ve never called him Dad. It was always Sir or Father. I never really gave it a thought when I was little. It was a rule. And you don’t say no to Judge Alberton.”
“You seemed to say no to him just fine yesterday.”
“And yesterday was the first time I’ve ever stood up to him like that. Trust me, I was scared shitless.”
Jace leaned back against the couch, his relaxed posture returning. “You could’ve fooled me. I was standing right next to you, and you almost had me believing everything you were saying. You were so believable I thought you must have had some experience as an actress.”
