Page 26 of Someone Like You

I look to Freya because I have no idea how to answer that.

‘You were telling us about how the partnership would work – logistically,’ she says.

‘Right, yes.’

‘It’s generous that CiCi and Devin only expect a nominal buy-in to join the business,’ Freya adds, feeding me a lifeline.

‘True,’ he replies.

‘That must be a big plus in the take-the-offer column?’ I ask, finding my way back into the conversation.

Raff sets his knife and fork on his empty plate and leans back in his chair. ‘It is – absolutely.Almostenough to counter how my parents will react.’

Freya places her hand on top of his. ‘Your parents haveneverapproved of your job. How is this any different?’

Raff scowls, his hurt unmistakable.

‘Perhaps a different way to reframe it,’ I say, switching to marketing mode, ‘is that by following your passion and making this career change, you can finally be free from the weight of their expectations.’

‘How so?’ he asks, his interest clearly piqued.

Freya props her chin on her hand and looks at me expectantly.

Great. Now I need to spin what seemed like a simple statement into a tangible reason for sloughing off his parents’ disappointment.

My thoughts immediately go to my mom and dad. Gina has always been my biggest champion, instilling in me since I was a little girl that I could be anything and do anything, as long as I worked hard and never gave up. That was her only stipulation – not the weight of parental expectation, but that I develop a strong work ethic, determination, and grit.

My dad was less vocal but equally as supportive, willing to let my mom be my head cheerleader, but he was always there to help me dust myself off and get up and try again – literally and figuratively.

Even when I decided to move to London after my college boyfriend of six years (Eric, rhymes with Pencil Dick – kinda) left me for his co-worker of three months, they supported me. They were heartbroken I would be so far away, but they didn’t make my decision any harder than it already was.

And there’s the rub. Raff has never experienced that level of support from his parents. Well, screw them! And that’s exactly what I need to say.

‘Gaby?’ prods Freya. I must have been pondering far longer than I realised.

‘Raff,’ I say, looking him in the eye, ‘screw your parents. Seriously, just screw ’em.’

He blinks twice, then stares at me wide-eyed. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Oh, don’t be allEnglish, Raff. How many times have you wanted to tell your parents to fu?—’

‘Sod off,’ Freya cuts in. In all our years of friendship, she’s never quite got used to me cussing like a trucker.

‘Okay, fine – tosodoff, then? How many times? Dozens, hundreds? They already pass judgement on you for working in marketing, despite your successes and all your promotions… What’s the difference between that and them judging you for being a pastry chef? Oh, I know! You’ll be living your dream!’

He looks away, his scowl intensifying.

Oops, I may have pushed too hard that time.

‘Hey, I’m sor?—’

‘You are absolutely right,’ he says, meeting my eyes.

‘I am?’

‘She is?’ asks Freya.

He looks between us. ‘For too long, I’ve sought approval that will never come. I could become theprime ministerand my father would still find fault with my choices. And my mother’s hardly any better. CiCi is more like a mum to me than my own mother ever has been, and she’s giving me this incredible opportunity –witha massive safety net. Why have I taken so long to officially say yes? What’s wrong with me?’

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