Page 46 of Battling the Enemy
“I mean…this…this is our future,” she sputtered.
“Ourfuture?”
“I meant yours, of course,” she bit back, correcting her slip of the tongue.
Little did she know, that gave me the perfect opening. “And as it’s my future, I decided I want something different, Mom,” I replied. “I’m not happy with the idea of marrying Winston just to secure a solid financial foundation for you and the Reynolds. I want to be happy.”
“Nonsense, Delaney,” she clipped. “You’ll be perfectly happy with Winston-”
I let out a sigh. “No, I won’t, Mother,” I said, this time cutting her off. “I met a guy and-”
She scoffed. “Delaney, please. I’ve heard all about the boy you’re throwing Winston over for. The Reynolds told me everything.”
“You got an opinion about a guy from the people who stand to lose just as much as you do, and you believe them? Seriously?”
“What about Blaineview?” she asked, ignoring my question. “You know they’ll take you on because of your grades and being our only child. You’re not throwing that away, also, are you?”
I had never wanted to go to Blaineview. I wanted to go to Dartmouth. I wanted to go to an East Coast school to get as far away from my stifling future as I could. My parents thought I needed to go to college with Winston. It was assumed he’d attend Blaineview like a majority of Windsor graduates, but he’s mentioned over the years wanting to explore his options.
“We’ve talked about this, Mom. I want to go to Dartmouth,” I reminded her.
“And we talked about how it’s more beneficial to follow Winston,” she remindedme.
“But Winton’s a nonfactor now, Mother,” I volleyed back.
She was silent for a while and that meant Mrs. Shirley Martin was reassessing her approach. My mother might seem like a vapid socialite, but she was more cunning than people gave her credit for. The scar on my face is proof enough of that.
“How about we make you a deal, Delaney,” she posed. “We’ll set up a tour at Dartmouth this weekend for you, but you have to…consider Winston a bit more.”
“Mom-”
“Hear me out, Delaney,” she implored. “Four years is a long time, don’t you agree?”
I glanced at my watch that showed fourminuteswas a long time. “Yes,” I agreed, nevertheless.
“High school romances have a tendency to fizzle out, and…and I’m not saying that in an unsupportive way.” I almost snorted. “I’m saying that as a matter of fact, Delaney.”
The jacked-up part?
She wasn’t lying.
It was very rare for high school sweethearts to make it through the grownup stages in life together. People grow up and change. What you want at thirty is a far cry from what you wanted at sixteen. There were no guarantees, and even if Deke and I gave it our all, we could still eventually drift apart later down the line.
Four years was a long time, and anything could happen. Hell, I had been using that same argument every time I defended my arrangement to Ava. I lost count of how many times I’ve said Winston could end up meeting someone in college and falling in true love. If I went to Dartmouth and Deke went to Blaineview, the same thing could happen to either one of us. I mean, hell…how many times has a person thought themselves in love only to find real true love later in life and realized every relationship beforehand hadn’t compared?
I knew I was in love with Deke, but just like he said his love for me didn’t make him weak, I couldn’t let my love for him make me stupid.
So, I agreed.
I agreed that I shouldn’t be so closed minded to all of life’s possibility for something so brand new and unchartered.
“Okay, Mom,” I conceded. “I won’t…take Winston off the table completely, just yet, but you have to promise to give Deke a chance. Even if…things don’t work out with me and Deke, he still deserves a fair chance. It’s not his fault I’ve changed my mind.”
“Why…why don’t we concentrate on college right now, since that’s the next step your life, and we’ll deal with everything else as it comes?” she suggested.
I wanted to argue and…makeher acknowledge my relationship with Deke, but I knew I had a better chance of making her see things my way face to face. I should probably be grateful that she bothered to call and discuss this, at all. Her or my father could have easily cut off all my finances and gone the bullying and intimidation route.
“Sounds good, Mom,” I lied. “I’ll…I’ll talk to you later.”
