Page 38 of Caden's Situationship

“I enjoy mixing flavors, too,” I replied with a smile, my thoughts going to back home. It was crazy how my mama and I could argue over something as small as tea, but she liked her flavors organic and simple, whereas I loved to mix and match.

“Are you missing home?” he asked, breaking my thoughts.

“Not even a little.” I took another sip of my tea, and as realization struck, I told him, “The reason tonight was so great is because it was the complete opposite of how a gathering would go in my hometown.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I thought about the way his parents had accepted me and how I dressed without making me feel like I was a walking comedy show. I wanted to be honest with Caden, and open up to him in a way I never had with anyone. However, letting someone know your insecurities was tough when you’d spent so much time burying them.

Yet, looking into his eyes and seeing that he was genuinely interested to know what was on my mind, I decided to let him in.

“Back home, I know what people think when they see me,” I stated. “They look at me as a joke. A person who was born into a comfy lifestyle, yet didn’t fit into their elite society box of what it meant to be a true Dandelion Hills resident. Every time you call me princess, it makes me smile because I know you don't mean it cruelly. But in my Texas hometown, I'm not the princess of it. I’m the joke. A person who the women don’t understand, and a woman that men think they could change to fit their idea of a trophy wife.

“And the way I dress is a conversation every person I met is much too eager to discuss. Yet, ironically, I use my ruffled dresses and grand hats as a barrier of protection for me because people expect Cordelia Sugar Rose to flaunt her fancy the way her family has always done. The way my mother and grandmother had dressed me when I was younger, even if I kicked and screamed that I’d rather wear shorts and gym shoes to school. To them, dressing me the way they did was their way of getting me to conform to some messed up southern belle mentality that the real me didn’t fit.”

Caden placed his hand over mine. “No one should ever make someone feel like they are less than,” he said. “Your mom and grandmother were wrong for that.”

“Don’t I know it,” I muttered. “I can’t even tell you how many times they forced me to stay in the house when all my friends were out playing. Or how many debutante balls they placed me in, in hopes that my unpopular opinion would change when I noticed all the other girls were giving the same answers. When they noticed that wouldn’t work to change me, they figured out another solution instead. Homeschool.”

“I wasn’t aware you were homeschooled,” Caden stated.

“Until I was eighteen. I didn’t tell you when we met in college because me even going to that school was a rebellion against my family. However, I don’t regret it because it was one of the best times I’d ever had … even if my confidence was a little rocky back then.”

“What? You were one of the most confident women I knew back then. We hit it off immediately, and I even remember thinking I couldn’t believe how easy you were to talk to since, besides Katrina, I hadn’t really had a female friend before.”

I smiled. “I felt the same way about you, and it wasn’t until I got to college that I realized how harsh I was on my own judgements and biases.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like, with the girls from my hometown. Women I used to be friends with when I was younger. You know, I remember judging the girls who used to do those debutant balls because they’d wanted to, yet I was forced to. I’d think shame on them for being weak-minded and not having an opinion of their own since their answers sounded so robotic. Do you know what a wakeup call it is when you grow into an adult and realize that those same women you called weak were now stronger than you because instead of living life for yourself, you started living it for others. You allowed them to treat you a certain way. You didn’t force change once you were old enough to enforce it.”

Caden’s eyes studied mine in a way that surprised me. I knew everything I was talking about was so far removed from his life, yet he seemed to really understand me. “Only a person who’s allowed others to define the way they’re treated would understand what you mean.”

“And you’re one of those people?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, so I feel you.” His eyes briefly dropped to my pajamas, and for a moment, I was wondering if he was thinking about a more pleasurable way we could be passing time. Instead, he said, “Let me start by saying I like you in anything or nothing at all. But why do you still wear ruffled dresses and big hats if it was your mom and grandmother who forced you to wear them?”

I thought about his question, having asked myself the same thing before. “Honestly, my clothing is an extension of me now. I know sometimes it’s over the top, but when I got older and my mom and grandmother asked me to stop wearing the dresses, I realized that I kind of liked that I had a different style than everyone else.”

“What did your dad say about all this?” he asked.

“My dad was there, but not really. He always wanted a son, and I didn’t have balls, so he didn’t care about what went on. Still doesn’t.”

“And that aunt you were close to?”

I smiled. “She traveled a lot for the company when I was younger, but once I was able to open up about everything going on, she was the reason I went college even if it was only for a year. She fought hard to get the family to treat me like the men were treated. Technically, I was eighteen and didn’t need my parents’ approval, but I was sheltered so had she not helped me, I would have been lost.”

“I remember the day you told me you transferring to a school closer to home,” he said. “I was crushed, but I understood being closer to your family.”

I worried my bottom lip, remembering that I never told Caden the entire reason I left. He only knew part of it.

“My father told me I could work for the company if I came home and took night classes at a nearby college, but if I stayed in school, there was no guarantee I would have a job,” I explained.

Caden shook his head. “Blackmailed by your own father. That’s brutal.”

“It was,” I said, studying his eyes. “But that was nothing compared to him telling me I was engaged and that my husband-to-be was ready for me to be his wife.”

Fifteen

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