Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Just before her fingers touched the card stock, she hesitated. Then she withdrew as he let it go, and the card fell to the floor between them. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
Her father didn’t look down or bend to pick it up. “Please. Call us.”
Then they turned together, her father’s hand on her mother’s elbow, their movements synchronized as if they were one unit. Saskia didn’t move as they headed down the corridor to the elevator and their footsteps faded away.
Her father had looked back once, her mother not at all. Just as she hadn’t spoken the entire time. Not one word. Obviously, Patricia Oliver wasn’t ready to admit she’d been wrong. She never would be.
Even if Saskia let them in, if she told them about her art and her life and what she’d been doing, after they got what they wanted, they would desert her.
But she would not let them suck her dry again.
Clay ached for her, but he was immensely proud of her too. He’d seen hope in the slight curve of her lips when she’d first seen them. He’d seen the hope die. Then she’d stoically sent them away. She had emotions about the episode, but she hadn’t let them devastate her. She was tougher than that. Not hard, but tough.
After a deep breath and a long exhale, she said, “I just realized I’ve been mourning a relationship with my parents that I never actually had. All they care about is the money I make. They’ll bleed me dry to get it.”
He could see the intense emotion roiling inside her, but it was the emotion of release. Her parents had trampled her when they’d kicked her out—not just her art, her. Hugo Lewis had ripped her asunder all over again when he’d stolen her name.
But her suffering had made her a strong woman, tough enough to take all the blows thrown her way. That made her a very special woman indeed. The woman he loved.
He had to give her the words her parents wouldn’t. “I’m so sorry. I know what your parents did was even worse than what Lewis did.”
Behind him, Adrian snorted. “Hugo was a jerk. Your only mistake was not realizing it from the start.”
Clay wrapped Saskia’s hand in his. “You have to forgive yourself for that too.”
All she’d ever wanted was someone’s love and appreciation, the things she’d never gotten from her parents. It had made her an easy target for a man like Lewis.
A small smile creased the corners of Saskia’s lips. “Hugo was a total douche.” Then she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get out of here. I just—” She cut herself off, turning and dropping his hand. Then her boots echoed down the hallway as she strode away at a fast clip.
“I’m going after her,” he said to Gareth and Adrian.
Adrian grabbed Saskia’s bag off the couch and handed it to him. “Take care of her.”
He would.
Part of him wanted to run after her parents and tear into them for what they’d done. But he’d figure out how to deal with them later.
Saskia needed him more right now.
Ahead, she took the stairs instead of the elevator, and he followed her down. As they stepped into the lobby below, her parents were just leaving through the outside door. Saskia stood for a moment, watching them.
Beautiful. Strong. His.
As the Olivers turned left on the crowded street, she crossed the lobby, opened the door, and turned right. Maybe it was an intentional separation, he couldn’t tell, but she headed to the coffee shop. Clay was reminded of the day the self-driving car had almost mowed her down. The most important day of his life.
They entered the coffee shop, and she still hadn’t said anything to him. At the counter, she ordered two flat whites, and when they were ready, she took a corner table.
Sitting beside her, he held her hand. He didn’t ask if she was okay; he knew she was. Even if she was brimming with emotion that wanted to spill over, she was okay.
“I’m here,” he murmured.
His heart broke for her as, despite her strength, everything she felt flooded out of her.
“They didn’t come all that way for me.” She tapped her fist to her chest. “They came to see what they could get out of me.”
“They’re parasites. You’re the world-famous San Holo, bigger than they ever were, and they want to leech off your fame.”
She sucked in a breath, and he feared for a moment that he’d hurt her. But when she spoke, he was surprised there wasn’t a forlorn note in her voice, just a statement. “Why didn’t they love me enough? What was wrong with me? Now, suddenly, I’m good enough for them because other people recognize my art?”
“There was always a piece of you that thought your parents were right—that you weren’t good enough.” He ached to make them pay for stripping away her self-confidence at such a young age. They’d stolen from her in ways even more harmful than Hugo had.