Page 128 of Show Me How
“What am I behaving like, Chadwick? Other than someone who finally doesn’t feel a loyalty to this family the way I convinced myself I needed to for the last two decades?” I ask bluntly.
“Family is all any of us have.”
“You’re wrong. I had a real family back where I was.”
“They didn’t even know you. Not the real you. Even now, you don’t look like yourself. You’re all wrong,” he says with a huff.
I blow out a silent laugh. “Wow, that’s exactly what you should be saying to the woman you’re supposed to be marrying. Maybe that’s why you’re not.”
“What does that mean?” His words are sharper now.
“We’re not getting married, Chadwick.”
Shoving the sheet away, I slide off the bed. My hair is a mess, all tangled and dry as I pull it up and grab a clip from my nightstand, holding it out of my face. The silk on my body feels wrong, scratchy as I cross the room to my closet.
I look over the endless racks of clothes, from dresses to matching sets and jackets, and realize there isn’t a single thing that I want to wear. Months ago, I would spend hours in here trying everything on and doing spins in the mirror, but things have changed. My love for nice clothes and shoes hasn’t swayed, but where I’ve gotten them has. The expectations that line the insides of each piece weigh them down to the point that I’d rather wear a garbage bag and wool socks instead.
“We are getting married. It’s already been decided,” Chadwick argues, following me into the closet.
Opting for a skirt short enough to scar my mother and a matching blouse, I fill my arms and turn to him. “Have you ever thought about how unfair it is that our parents get to decide who we spend the rest of our lives with? Do you really not care about that?”
“I care about my future, and if my future at my father’s company relies on me marrying someone chosen, then I’ll do it. It’s not about me, Millie. It’s not about you either. This is bigger than us.”
“That’s a pathetic excuse for you being a spineless pussy, Chadwick.”
I toss my clothes onto a nearby shelf and then reach for the biggest suitcase I have in the corner of the closet. Shoving it onto the floor, I crouch to unzip it.
“That hick town turned you into a cunt.”
My eyes fly up to where Chadwick stands over me, his hands clenched at his sides. “Maybe it did. Or maybe I always was deep down beneath the quiet woman I was always taught I had to be.”
“You’re going to ruin everything for our families,” he warns.
“I wish I cared.”
“Millie, this isn’t a joke. You need to think about the consequences here. If you fight this any harder, you’ll be thrown out. The Harrington name will be stripped away and given to someone else if that’s what they decide to do.”
Ripping clothes off the racks, I drop them into the suitcase. My stomach clenches at the threat of what it really could mean to leave for good this time. To not have this place to fall back on in case everything goes to shit. There’s so much fear inside of me, but I don’t allow myself to change my mind. If Shade doesn’t feel the same way I do, then we’ll have to make it work because I’m going back home, and I’m not leaving again.
“If my choices are to stay here and live a life like this, then I’ll take my chances somewhere else. The Harrington name is nothing more than a brand only recognized by those of high enough status to know who we are. It doesn’t mean anything in the real world. I’ve done just fine without the money and influence that name has, Chadwick. There’s far more to life thanwhat you’ve seen in the bubble everyone here seems to be afraid to pop.”
I finish with the clothes and move on to shoes. Each pair has its own shelf lit by white lights, and as I stare at the wall, I laugh. I almost can’t believe how much money is in this room or how little I cared about that before.
Pair by pair, I drop them into the other side of my suitcase, focusing on the ones with the red bottoms or jewels that I know were imported specially for me. They fall to the suitcase with loud clunks.
“That guy has ruined you,” Chadwick sneers, not valuing a damn thing I’ve said.
“No, he hasn’t. He helped me find the person this place tried to make disappear.”
Without another look at him, I take my chosen outfit and exit the closet. I can feel him following me, hovering like maybe his breath on my neck will make me give in.
“If I speak with your mother right now, she’ll come in here in a far worse mood than she was earlier,” he warns.
“Let her. It won’t change anything. Now, get the fuck out so I can get dressed.”
He doesn’t have time to argue before I take a single step into my ensuite and slam the door in his face.
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