“I’m not coming back.”
The words come out stronger than I expected, solid with conviction. It’s the first time I’ve said them out loud—to them, to myself—and it feels like I’ve added another notch to my so-called freedom streak.
“Not now. Not ever.”
She takes a sharp intake of breath. “Jamie.” There’s that tone. The same soft, desperate one she’d use when she’d coerce me into seeing things her way. “Please come home. This is embarrassing the family name.”
I grit my teeth.
The family name?Fucking rich coming from her. After what they did to Tiff. What they did to me.
“The family name,” I interrupt, “will survive without me.”
“I didn’t want to have to say this, but this tantrum isn’t just about you anymore, Jamie,” There’s a hint of desperation inher voice. “Your father is—he’s not handling this well. He hasn’t slept in days. Please, Jamie. Come home. We can work this out.”
He’s not handling it well. How the hell did he think a teenage mom took it when he served her fucking court papers?
“What is there to work out? I’m not fucking working at his hellhole of a job. I’m not coming back and pretending to be the perfect Nicks heir.”
“Language,” she scolds automatically, then sighs. “It's complicated, Jamie. He cares about your future. About the life planned for you.”
“The life you planned for me,” I correct her. “It’s not the one I want.”
“And what is it you want, Jamie? To throw away your education? Your inheritance? Everything we've worked for? For what?”
“You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” I ask, astonished.
She takes a breath for a beat, and I swear I almost hear her coming to the right conclusion.
“Oh, you’re kidding, right? Are you throwing this tantrum over some girl you barely know and her child?”
The dismissive way she refers to Tiff and Ella makes my blood boil, but at least she put it all together. “They're my family,” I say, each word deliberate and firm. “Myrealfamily.”
“We'reyour family,” she insists, hurt bleeding through her controlled tone. “We've always been your family.”
“Then act like it,” I counter. “Support me. Respect my choices. Let me live my life. I'm staying here with my daughter. That’s non-negotiable. If you and my father don’t want to have a relationship with me because of it, then it’s your loss.”
That makes her stop, and I hear her blow out a breath of disbelief.
“You barely know them,” she says quietly. “They’re strangers to you.”
“They won’t be soon,” I say, “but if that’s all, I’ve gotta go. Got some stuff I need to handle.”
“Jamie, wait—”
I end the call before she can finish, feeling no guilt at all. I don’t care anymore. They can say or do whatever the fuck they want; it won’t change my decision.
I’m here, and I’m not leaving until Tiff tells me she doesn’t want me.
I stuff my phone in my pocket and head straight to student services. Just as I reach for the handle, I hear a faint sniffle.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I lean back, surprised at what I see.
Honey is sitting on a bench just to the side of the entrance. She hasn’t seen me. She’s too busy looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair is draped around her face, and her shoulders are shaking so slightly most people wouldn’t notice that she’s upset.
I do, though.
I’ve seen it before, more times than I want to admit. She’s holding back her tears, doing everything she can to keep her composure. That’s why she’s here, alone in one of the quietest parts of campus. She doesn’t want anyone to see her like this.