Page 23 of Saving You Losing Me

“Then we won’t let them.”

“I don’t want to hide, to pretend you’re not mine, Clara. I’m proud to call you my woman, and I want the entire world to know that.”

She doesn’t even hesitate and matches my tone with a hard, “I’m hiding nothing and I guess you’re talking about my parents. Let me deal with them.”

“How?”

She shrugs and leans in and kisses me again, her tongue edging inside, effectively silencing my questions.

We kiss like lovers, we always will and as she pulls back, she whispers, “Was that really your first time?”

“Proud of it, baby.” I wink. “I don’t lie. Why would I be happy knowing I was your first if I’d been around the block a hundred times already? I’m not a hypocrite darlin’ and I’m not afraid of declaring my feelings for you.”

A huge beautiful smile transforms her face, and she says softly, “Then why hide us, Atom? Let’s shout it to the world.”

Right now, everything is perfect. I have everything I wanted and dreamed about and if anyone thinks they have a shot at tearing us apart, they had better be fully loaded because I will fight for this woman with my last breath.

We cleanup in the small shower and afterward make coffee in the small kitchen.

Clara is wearing my t-shirt and sitting on the counter top, watching me make the drinks bare-chested, wearing my jeans.

“I love this.”

She smiles, a dreamy expression on her face.

“What, coffee?” I tease and she giggles, which is a sound I will never tire of hearing.

“No, being here with you. It’s perfect.”

“It is.”

I hand her the mug and she wraps her hands around it and sighs with contentment.

“So, what happens now?”

“We enjoy the Summer.”

Her face falls. “Then I must leave for college. It will take years.”

I hate how sad that makes me and force a smile on my face. “It’s important you finish your education. What are you majoring in?”

“Business.”

She shrugs. “It was my father’s choice. I fancied art, but he told me that was of no use to anyone and at least with business I will understand the complexities of running a home.”

“He said that?” I arch my brow, and she pulls a face.

“I know, he’s a dinosaur. You see, in our world, the pretty ones, as they say, make a good wife for an aspiring business man. They are expected to keep house, provide an heir and entertain to elevate their social position. The rest are considered career women because what else are they good for?”

“Ouch.” I lean against the fridge and shake my head. “That’s wrong on every level.”

“Now you can see what I’m up against.”

“But you have a say in your future, surely.”

I’m learning a lot about this so called privileged lifestyle of hers and am surprised to discover she’s worse off than most.

“To a degree.” She sips on the coffee and sighs. “If I go along with their plans, I keep it all. The trust fund, the high living and my place in society. It’s in my best interests to do well, which means marry well because that assures my future. If I choose a different one, I will be cut off. No trust fund, no place at the dinner table and never spoken of again.”

---