Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“He was falling down drunk at your sister’s wedding,” Blythe finally exploded.
“He wasn’t drunk, and he’s not unstable,” Jamie said. But of course, they didn’t have any other explanation. So they decided to leave it at that. “Did Emma leave already?” they asked instead.
“Listen, dear,” Blythe said, toying with their tie. “Don’t bring him on Saturday, please. It’s not about me or you. It’s about your sister. Let’s make sure she has a perfect day.”
And how many other people have to suffer in order for that to happen?
Rage boiled over, and things that Jamie had never been able to say on their own behalf flowed from their mouth as they defended Edgar. Kind, gentle, sweet Edgar who always fucking tried his best, even to his own detriment. Who was always thinking about Jamie, even while having a panic attack. Who’d welcomed Jamie with open arms into his heart and into a family just as complicated as their own but far more generous. Who’d insisted on coming as their date tonight, even though Jamie had warned him repeatedly that it would be a drag. And who was now, as a result, being speculated about by people who didn’t even know him.
“Not one time did either of you ask if my boyfriend is okay. You thought he had a problem with alcohol, and you recognized he has an anxiety disorder, both things that mean someone needs help. But neither of you care about helping anyone.”
Jamie broke off. They had seen what they needed to see. Jamie had spent so long feeling like their parents hadn’t truly valued and respected them. They’d spent so long wanting to gain their respect, to convince them via excellence to reevaluate their opinions and beliefs.
But now Jamie realized that need was gone.
They didn’t want the approval of people they didn’t respect. They didn’t want to be well thought of by people whose judgment they didn’t agree with. And they didn’t want to constantly put themself in the position of shoving down great swathes of themself so that those people could feel more comfortable. In fact, now that they could see this clearly, there was a shift—like their entire being took two steps to the side—and Jamie couldn’t believe they’d held back this long.
Blythe’s mouth was pinched, generally a sign she was thinking about how to annihilate the enemy, but Jamie didn’t care. What could she say to them that they hadn’t felt every instant they spent in her presence?
“You know,” Jamie said, “I’ve been dreading this wedding. Not because I’m not happy for Emma. If this is what she wants, great. But because I knew that the two of you would find some way to make me feel like I was ruining your perfect picture just by existing. And I accepted that, because it’s what you’ve always done. But what I won’t accept is you treating my boyfriend like shit. He’s amazing and sweet, and he went through a lot just to be here. He really wanted to make a good impression. But you don’t care about any of his amazing qualities. Because the only way to make a good impression on you is to be exactly like you, isn’t it? And no fucking thank you!”
“Are you quite through?” Blythe asked coldly. Their father looked on, aghast.
Jamie wasn’t, but now their heart was beating fast, and their ears were ringing with anger.
“You have been free to live your life as you wish,” their mother hissed, as if even alone in a huge empty room, she wouldn’t raise her voice loud enough for her political enemies to overhear. “But when it comes to a family event, there are ways that things are done. And if your little boyfriend can’t even make it through a dinner without humiliating himself, then it is appropriate for us to ask him not to attend the wedding that everyone has worked so hard to arrange.”
Jamie saw red. “Humiliate himself?! He—I—we—”
What would happen if they told their parents the true reason Edgar had left the rehearsal dinner? They could imagine what their folks would say. You managed to find someone who’s as much of a freak as you.
“Jamie,” their father appealed. “Your mother’s colleagues will be at the wedding. Understand how it would look.”
They understood perfectly. Really, they always had. But now, finally, they accepted that it wouldn’t change.
“It would look like you care about your kid more than you care about appearances. So I understand that it’ll never happen,” they said, resigned.
Their parents hesitated, as if they had expected protest.
“Here’s the thing,” Jamie continued, taking advantage of their silence. “I care far more about my boyfriend’s feelings than I do about appearances. And I care more about myself than I do about what you think of me.”
As soon as they said it, it became true. Jamie stood taller.