We were in the car. Snow ticked softly against the windshield. My eyes burned with the kind of anger that has nowhere to go because it has been gathering for years.
Ethan loosened his tie and looked out through the frosted glass before answering. “Because your parents don’t respect money. They worship it.”
I turned to him. “That’s exactly why telling them would matter.”
He glanced at me then, his face quiet in the darkness. “Would it matter to them, or to you?”
I had no answer that didn’t shame me.
He reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. “Amelia, I’m not hiding. I just won’t use success as bait. If the day comes when they know, it should be because truth became necessary. Not because they made you feel small enough to beg for protection.”
He always said things like that—not grand things, but clear ones. Words that left no room to lie to myself.
I loved him for it. And sometimes, if I am honest, I resented him for the same reason. He had escaped the system I was still trapped inside. He did not measure himself by my parents’ gaze. I still did, even after marrying a man whose love should have cured me of needing theirs.