Page 13 of Their Secret Hideaway

Probably through the boys. Because I was being a weirdo and refusing to give it to her despite us dating for weeks now.

“I was in the neighborhood and I decided to check in and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’m doing fine. I’m just swamped a bit with work.” This is technically not a lie. Trying to figure out how not to do your work is still work.

“May I come in?” She says, her eyes beaming, and as positive a force as she ever was.

My eyes go wide, and I start to panic a bit. “It’s probably not the best time, Tabitha. I’m really busy and I can’t really be distracted from this. It needs to get done and needs to get done as soon as I can manage it.”

Her face collapses into a frown. God, seeing that makes my heart break.

“I don’t mind just hanging out. I could see your folks and we could have a talk while you work.”

“They’re, uh, very anxious when it comes to unannounced visitors. My mother would berate me for not giving her a heads up so she could be a better hostess.”

She crosses her arms. She’s gotten to know me too well and knows when I’m full of shit.

“Alright then. I’m not going to force my way in. But I’d really like to come visit sometime. I really like you, Fox, and I’d love to get to know the people responsible for raising you.”

“I’m sure they’d like to meet you too,” a phrase I’m not sure was a lie or not. “But I hope this wasn’t too heartbreaking. I’m really looking forward to our hike tomorrow.”

“Yeah, our hike.” She sighs. “Take care of yourself, Fox.”

She turns and heads down my driveway, dejected, all while I feel like a total ass.

Tabitha isn’t the type of girl who would shame me for still living with my parents, so it has nothing to do with that. I’d been more than financially able to be on my own for awhile now, but I’ve wanted to strike out on my own the right way, and not in just any generic house for sale in Evergreen Valley.

I close the door and turn to head back to fretting over doing nothing, only for another woman in my life to be barring my path.

“Who was that, dear?” My mother said, a peanut butter and elderberry jam sandwich in hand.

“Just a friend.” A girlfriend is still your friend, right?

“Oh. They don’t usually come over to visit.” Possibly because this place is too rich even for them, nowadays. “So, how have things been going between you and that Elizabeth Finkle girl?”

Elizabeth Finkle? It takes a moment for me to remember who that even is. “We haven’t arranged anything, we both have been so busy.”

Was she? I had no idea because I haven’t talked to her beyond a random ‘Hello’ at a Christmas party when our parents introduced us.

“She’s such a nice girl. Perfect for you. Her family is really close to ours. You know how. They’re in the real estate business too. So you two should have a lot in common.”

And there was the core of my lack of interest, I remembered. I’m sure Elizabeth was a nice enough girl, yes. But my parents pushing a girl like her felt outright medieval. My dad was really good friends with her dad, and a marriage between us would be something akin to solidifying our alliances.

It’s also why I worried about introducing Tabitha to them. Ever since our ascendance into wealth, both of my parents have been obsessed with success and wealth, fearful of ever falling into being poor again.

And marrying into another successful family would be a good way to protect us from that happening.

I love Tabitha. I adore her.

But nothing about her suggested success in the conventional, business sense.

She sold custom jewelry and clothing items. Stuff that didn’t follow trends, stuff meant for people who marched to the beat of a different drummer just like she did. I’d never want her to stop doing that.

But it didn’t scream wildly successful business. I’m guessing she made enough, she never seemed to be struggling financially. And that should be enough, but in the business world? It wouldn’t be seen as such.

I didn’t want her to feel judged by parents. I didn’t want to be judged by my parents for wanting such a woman in my life. I love them too, and I didn’t want to be forced to choose between romantic and familial love, because I was absolutely sure that the rift between them was inevitable whenever they finally met.

When my brief chat with my mother is over, I return to my desk. I open my laptop, trying to figure out how to do the job so slow it never actually gets done.

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