I stood still, stunned. I’d never seen an angry outburst from him. I put up a hand in surrender. “Fine. I’m sorry for doing that. I hate it when people do it to me.”
He fixed his unwavering gaze on me. “Why aren’t you willing to give it a chance?”
I took a deep breath. “Because I don’t want a relationship. Not with you. Not with anyone.”
“Why?”
Frustration crawled up my spine, tightening that knot between my shoulders. I put my hands to my temples, closing my eyes. “You are making me crazy, Adam.”
“Because I’m forcing this conversation when you want to avoid it? It’s been the elephant in the room for days—weeks, now—and I’m not going to shove it aside any longer, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you. When we get back to California, I want to know where we stand. Exactly where we stand.”
My mouth set, irritation burning like hot lava. “You’ll be standing in your office somewhere in Irvine and I’ll be standing in my apartment in Orange.”
He folded his arms across his chest and angled his head, studying me. “I’m not amused.”
“Quit trying to save me. I don’t need you to save me.”
He blinked. “Emilia, I’m telling you I want you in my life. I want a relationship with you—as equals—and you somehow twist me into your knight protector coming to a meek maiden’s rescue?”
I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Isn’t that what it is?”
He shook his head. “That bastard really fucked you up good. He’s screwed you because in every decision you make for the rest of your life, you’ll never even consider trusting someone enough to allow them in.”
I tensed. “I did my therapy. I’m fine. That little shithead has no part in what decisions I make—”
He exhaled in exasperation. “I was talking about your father.”
Those words hit me like a blow, knocking my breath away. I held up a hand to ward off any more words he might consider hurling my way. Because they stung, like darts sinking into my skin.
I fought for breath. Memories of taunts on the playground from my erstwhile friends—Mia doesn’t have a daddy. She’s never had a daddy. At least their daddies came to see them on the weekends, or took them on fancy vacations once in a while. Mine just wished I’d never existed, if he ever thought of me at all.
I wasn’t the only child from a broken home. Well, that would imply that our home had ever been in one piece to begin with—but at least they knew their fathers, their paternal grandparents, their siblings, their heritage. Their names. Late at night sometimes I’d hear my mom crying. She’d rifle through a box of letters that I knew were from him. A box of letters that I wished I could burn when she wasn’t around.
She’d tried to tell me, once, who he was. She’d wanted desperately to talk to me about him—upset that I’d only heard the negatives from her and from my grandmother as I grew up. But I’d screamed at her. I’d thrown a vase against the wall and shouted that I never wanted to hear her speak a word about that scumbag. And I’d stormed out of the house.
He hadn’t cared about me. Why would I care about him? I tried to breathe, instantly aware of the truth behind Adam’s accusation. It burned me like the raging wildfires that screamed through the dry hills in autumn.
“Don’t even—” I said, baring my teeth.
He didn’t flinch, didn’t even move. “Hit a nerve, did I?”
“Fuck you,” I whispered, struggling to dam the tears. They clogged in my throat. I hadn’t cried in the longest time. I was a tough woman. But Adam had shredded my defenses in less than five minutes. He knew too much. I stepped back and gestured stiffly at him. “You don’t know shit about my father.”
His expression was grim, gaze focused on me like two laser beams. “I know he turned you into a coward. I know that every single man you look at for the rest of your life is tainted by him. And I know that you are running scared—not just about this but about your entire future. How many times did I tell you to go out and retake that goddamn test? You could’ve taken it a dozen times by now but you still haven’t. You keep studying and studying, hoping for that perfect moment when you’ll know everything because you’re afraid to fail. In your education, in your life. So you protect yourself in this little isolated cocoon you’ve built. You’re a coward,” he sneered.
“What—are you a fucking shrink now?” And I hated how my voice sounded, that strangled sob that escaped my lips on that last word. He heard it because his face changed immediately, softening for the slightest fraction of a second before I got in his face. I strode up to him and shoved against his chest. What I really wanted to do was throw my best right hook at his perfect jaw but, like my attempt at pushing him, it would have done nothing.