“Just keep in mind the things I’ve said to you tonight,” her father couldn’t resist saying. “If you are dating someone, I hope you’ve made it clear to him that your career has to come first now. This guy isn’t the reason you’re suddenly having doubts about surgery, is he?”
“No, Dad. I’m the only one making the decisions about my career.”
“Good. Because boyfriends come and go, so you should always be in control of your own life. I’ve raised you to be an independent, self-sufficient woman who doesn’t need a man to take care of her.”
“Yes, you have.” She almost added that she didn’t need him to do so, either, but there was no need to hurt his feelings when he was only acting out of concern for her best interests.
Maybe she’d drawn her boundaries a little more clearly during this conversation; more likely, she would have to do so many more times before he finally got the message. Especially when she finally informed him that she was a married woman, and had been for quite some time—if that day ever came, she thought glumly.
“I need to go,” she said, trying not to sound too abrupt. “I have some more studying to do tonight. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Mom not to worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should come for dinner this weekend. I think we should talk some more about all of this.”
“We’ll see. Good night, Dad.” She disconnected before he could say anything else.
“Did they see us?” Liam asked as soon as she set her phone aside.
“Not exactly. Mom thought she caught a glimpse of me. And one of Dad’s friends saw us at the restaurant Friday night.”
Perhaps they had been naive to think no one would ever see them. Except for her time away for college and the months she’d spent in Europe, Anne had lived in this area all her life, and her parents were prominent members of society. It was no surprise that she would run into someone she knew almost anywhere she went.
“What did your father say?”
She shrugged. “Just the usual paternal warnings about keeping my focus on my studies and not letting myself get distracted by romance.”
Liam made a sound that was half snort, half growl. “Does he really think you’re so helpless that you need him to supervise everything you do? This is exactly why I said you should have called me rather than him when your car broke down. He sees every request for assistance as an invitation for him to make all your decisions for you.”
She looked pointedly at the packed suitcases sitting by her bed. “As opposed to you?”
Liam flushed, the angry color standing out against his pale, somewhat clammy-looking cheeks. “Don’t compare me to your father.”
“Why not? You’re both so certain you know what’s best for me. When I need to study, when I need to go out, when I need to eat or sleep, even when I should be married—at least openly married. All for my best interests, of course. Now tell me again that you aren’t like my father.”
“I can’t believe you said that. I have never tried to control you the way he does.”
“Not deliberately, perhaps.”
“Not at all,” he insisted.
She shrugged, seeing no end to that particular back-and-forth argument, especially since she was growing increasingly convinced she was right.
“Do you really dislike my father so much?” she asked instead, wondering if that was the reason he was so annoyed at being compared to the other man.
“Why should I feel any other way about him?” Liam asked in seething frustration. “He hated me the minute he first laid eyes on me. He’s blamed me for everything that ever went wrong in your life. If he knew I was still around, he’d blame me for the way you just stood up to him, and for any doubts you might have about following the path your father laid out for you practically at your birth. He would do everything he could to convince you to dump me now—for your own sake, of course.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, where her heart ached. Liam still had his locked arms pressed to his middle, as if their conversation was causing him as much pain as it was her. “And after we tell them the truth? That you are still a part of my life? How will you deal with him then?”
The question seemed to surprise him a little, as if he hadn’t given much thought to that eventuality. “I don’t suppose I’ll have to deal with him at all,” he said after a moment.
“You think he’s going to throw me out of the family, perhaps? That he’ll never want to see either of us again?”
“Well, no. I don’t think he’ll go that far. Probably. I’m sure he’ll want to see you again, once he gets over his pouting that you dared to make a major decision without his guidance. But I’ll still be gone a lot during the rest of your medical school experience and when I’m with you, we can do what we want, on our own terms.”
“So you don’t see yourself attending Christmas dinners with my parents, or birthday parties for my granddad or family cookouts in the summers or weddings and funerals and other family event
s?”
His eyebrows rose. “I hardly think I would be welcome to attend those events.”