“Is that what he said?”
“Only a dozen times or more.”
Priscilla leans back against the couch cushions. “When I first came out of the only relationship I’ve had besides your father, I didn’t have my guard up. It was shattered. I didn’t notice that all of the praise that second man gave me was…directly related to his requests. If he liked an outfit on me, it was only because he picked it out. If he liked a meal, it was one he’d requested I make. And so on. He never encouraged me—God no. Never built me up or made me want to believe in myself. I was nothing without him.” She pauses. “Does Dean make you feel like that?”
“No,” I gasp, shaking my head vigorously. “No, he tells me the medical field needs me. He makes me feel like I’m not an imposter. Like I’m important with him or individually. He even said…once he even said I could surpass him.” I say that last part dully, because my chest is starting to feel odd. Achier than before.
“These men are very different, it sounds like,” my mother murmurs, watching me closely. “Char, it wasn’t my intention to disillusion you about all men when I asked for that promise. It sounds like Dean has pure intentions. And honey, you are in a far stronger state of mind than I was after your father’s death. If you start to feel controlled by money, you will find a way out. You won’t stand for it.”
I stare at her in shock. “You think I should let him pay for medical school?”
“That’s up to you.” She brushes my hair back. “I just think you should consider a couple of things. One, he should believe in you. You deserve that confidence. If he thinks the medical field needs you, maybe he’s right, Char.” A beat passes. “And two, if you love him, he must be a good person. Otherwise you wouldn’t feel such a way for him. Not you. You know, I never loved anyone but your father. That second man…my gut never settled around him. My heart remained guarded. If you were able to let the love happen with Dean, there’s a reason. It’s hard to let ourselves trust, but when it’s the right person, there’s nothing to fear. Weirdly enough, trusting another person can often be the ultimate freedom.”
As soon as she says those words, the clouds in my head part and a light shines through. Of course there is nothing to fear. Not from Dean. Not from this man who has helped foster my love of medicine every step of the way. This man who wants so badly for me to be happy and reach my potential. I can relate to his stubbornness. His inability to let go of the idea that he would pay for school. I’m still mad at him for pacifying me, but…my anger is nowhere near the magnitude of my love.
Is my mother right?
Would trusting Dean be the ultimate freedom?
God knows I gave him total trust with my body and that decision has afforded me pleasure like I never knew was possible. What if my heart could experience the same euphoria?
Isn’t it more than worth a try?
Trembling and out of breath, I stand up, wetting my parched lips. “I…think I need to go see him. I think I was really hasty breaking things off. W-we should have talked about it more. I should have…”
“Trusted him?” finishes my mother with a knowing smile.
“Yes,” I whisper. And that’s when I realize I already do.
I already trust him. Implicitly. I let this pact with my mother and yes, my stubbornness, get in the way of my happiness with Dean. God, he makes me so happy. What am I doing?
“I have to go,” I mutter, starting for the front door. Picking up my purse where I left it on the floor and pulling the handle—
Dean is standing in front of the door, taking up every inch of daylight with his big frame, hands propped on either side of the entrance. His hair is wet. “Charlotte,” he says raggedly, devouring me with a head-to-toe look. “I’m sorry. I was a goddamned idiot. Having an ulterior motive was inexcusable—”
“I love you,” I blurt. “I love you, too. That’s what I should have said instead of leaving.”
He doesn’t seem to be breathing, but I hear the doorframe creak in his grip. “You love me? After what I’ve done…”
“What did you do?” I step close and wind my arms around his neck, aligning our bodies, making him moan low in his throat, his huge hands settling on my hips. “Believe in me? Build my confidence and encourage me? Want to give me everything under the sun?”
His eyes close, his mouth an inch from mine. “I can’t help what I want. But I need you. Just my Charlotte. You’re my requirement. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep your love. To keep you in my life. I’ll accept your wishes, I’ll stand guard outside of the houses you clean and drive you home at night. Anything, sweetheart. Anything.” He groans, dropping his mouth that final inch, interlocking our lips without kissing me. “God, I love you so much.”