Page 115 of Escaping Our Reality

I can’t swallow. There’s something stuck in my throat. I quickly stand up, unable to sit still. I pace around, dragging my hand across my face. “You forged my name? Pretended to be me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that!”

“Because,” she says simply.

I’m about to scream that ‘because’is not an answer when she finally continues.

“I wanna stay here to be close to you. I know I need a college education. It’s just like you said, people still wanna see that piece of paper, even though a real job, real life experience, is what matters in the end. And I know you want that too. You want afuture for yourself. For us. You’re just afraid to pull the trigger. So, I did it for you.”

Anger flares behind my eyes, making me see red and black spots. My head swims in a fog. My blood pressure must be shooting through the roof. “Afraid? You think I’m afraid? I’m trying to be practical, Lulu! I want a future for myself. For us. But I was trying to think of the best way to do that. Not all of us have the luxury of doing anything we want, whenever we want. Real-world standards apply for the majority of us.”

She doesn’t like that insinuation. Her back stiffens and she sucks in a large gulp of air. It was an asshole comment. What can I say? I’m an asshole.

An angry asshole who feels like his balls have just been ripped off by his woman. “Just how do you expect me to pay for this fancy college? I didn’t hear mention of the president doling out any scholarship funds. I already told you that I refuse to take on student loans that I’ll never be able to pay back. And I swear on all that’s holy, if you say you will pay for it, I will flip my shit.”

“I know about the money. The money your grandpa left you for school. Follow through on his wishes. Use that.”

How can she even suggest such a thing? I’m horrified. My whisper is low and mean. “That money is for Grandma. What do you want me to do? Toss her in some shithole so I can live high on my grandpa’s dime?”

She shoots up from the loveseat, fists balled in fury. “I love that woman too. How dare you accuse me of not thinking of her. You’re not tossing her out on the street. You can use the money to provide for both you and her. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself in the process. You don’t have to be a martyr. Your future and her care don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

“There’s not an endless supply of money, Lulu. We’re talking about the sale of some rural property. Grandpa didn’t sella Rembrandt. She could live for another ten years with this disease. Fifteen. No one knows.”

“There’s options to help if the money starts running out. VA benefits, Medicare,” she says, ticking items off her with fingers.

“Nothing that would keep her in that facility.”

Lulu’s face softens and she takes a step toward me, but I’m too mad. I take a step back. And that hurts her feelings.

“Ry, we’ll figure something out,ifandwhenthat time comes.”

“What about you? You turned down your full ride to the University of Virginia? All that free money, Lulu? I know you don’t wanna be an architect. You could’ve switched your major, still taken the scholarship. You’ve already told them no?”

“I will. I’m gonna tell them no as soon as we set up classes with the academic advisor here.”

I raise my voice. “There won’t be a meeting with the academic advisor. At least not for me.”

She squares her shoulders, preparing her defenses. She hisses at me, “What are you saying? You’re just gonna squander this opportunity?”

I laugh, cynically. “So that’s what this would be? Me not going to college? Me not following your well-laid—and might I add—deceptive plan? It would be squandering an opportunity?”

“Yes.”

Sucker punch.

It’s like I’m talking to a complete stranger. “Why can’t you see how wrong this is? You did this without my permission. You forged my name and lied. But more importantly, you took away my choices, something you promised you would never do again. You took away my chance to plan a future for us. One where I could actually be the man of the relationship. Figure out how I’m going to support you, figure out how I’m going to provide a life for you. You cut off my balls and basically waved them in myface, telling me I’m doing a shitty job at being a man of integrity and honor. I wanna earn the respect of others. Really earn it. I don’t want it to be handed to me on a silver platter just because I’m fucking the millionaire’s daughter.”

I can’t believe I just said that. What the hell is wrong with me?

She points her finger in my face. The after-sex flush has left her body and beet red anger has replaced it. Like a car getting a fresh new coat of paint. “You’re weak. A real man would realize that the guy and girl work together to make their dreams come true.”

She’s right. I am weak. I’m weak and poor and filthy. I’m white trash. A complete and total loser. Why did I ever think someone like her could love someone like me? I’m ruining her life. I’m dragging her from the mansion to the trailer park. Hell, I don’t even own a trailer. I’m homeless. Living in a tent in the woods.

My heart is splitting in two, sending me into a whirlwind of wild thoughts and accusations.

I rub my jaw. “You’re completely right. I am weak. You changed your entire future for me. Your scholarship, your school, your friends.” I snort. “I even let you give up your comfortable bed, for what? A blow-up mattress on the ground. It doesn’t matter what sheets we put on it, or what perfume we spray on it, it’s still a blow-up mattress. And I’m still the poor mechanic. The guy who lives out of his car. The son of two addicts. The brother of a drug pusher. A drug pusher who may or may not have been involved in the disappearance of your sister. Don’t you see how fucked up this is, Lulu? I’ve ruined your life.”

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