“I’m sorry, babe, but I don’t think he was with you just because you were convenient or his family expected something. I saw those pictures of you two, and the way he looked at you?” Adreamy smile spread on her lips. “Trust me, I’ve seen men treat women like accessories. Jesse didn’t look at you like that.”
I swallowed hard but finally nodded my agreement. “That’s why it stings so badly. You’re right abouthim, but not the family. To them, I was convenient. Shiny. The perfect package to serve up to the press. I almost went along with it too, because I do understand it, which makes it even worse.”
“So Jesse’s not the bad guy, but neither is his family?”
“Something like that. I think part of it is…” I trailed off, searching for the words. “I grew up watching my parents fight about this stuff.”
Miranda tilted her head, still frowning at me. “What stuff?”
“My mom’s family,” I said. “The Westwoods. We weren’t poor or anything. I suppose we were comfortable enough, but we were nothing like them and it was always just sort of there, this looming shadow we couldn’t get rid of over our lives.”
I stared down into my glass again, trying to work it out for myself by speaking it out loud to her. “When my great-grandfather passed away, they went into a full-blown meltdown over the inheritance.”
Miranda winced. “I wish I could say I was surprised, but unfortunately, I’m not really.”
“I don’t think many people were, but what did come as a surprise was that they even took my grandparents to court and fought tooth and nail to prevent them from receiving their share of his estate.”
She scoffed. “What? There is such a thing as testamentary freedom. You can leave your stuff to whoever you want. I mean, it’s subject to a few limitations, but was the will not properly executed or something?”
“No, it was. The issue wasn’t that or incapacity,” I said. “Unfortunately, all the primary vehicles for exercising his testamentary freedom, all the trusts and whatnot, wereconditional upon certain clauses of his children’s marriage contracts being fulfilled.”
“So, what?” she asked. “If you weren’t married, you couldn’t inherit? You said they took yourgrandparentsto court though, not just yourgrandfather, so presumably, they were still married.”
I nodded. “Yes, but my grandfather’s brothers argued that the spirit of that clause in the will was to ensure the family’s legacy. My grandparents were still married, sure, but they’d failed to produce an heir. According to my great-uncles, that meant they’d violated the spirit of the clause and, as such, they couldn’t inherit.”
Miranda stared at me slack-jawed and clearly horrified, all traces of humor vanishing from her eyes. “They did produce an heir, though. Your mother.”
“I know, but they didn’t technicallyproduceher, did they? Theyadoptedher and the family never considered her as one of them,” I said, forcing a small, crooked smile. “So forgive me if I don’t see a future where that very same family welcomes me with open arms. They blocked my grandparents out of a hefty inheritance like it was nothing. Likewewere nothing.”
I didn’t add this, but that inheritance would’ve changedeverythingfor us. Not in a yacht-and-champagne way, but in amy mom doesn’t cry over bills at midnightway.
“Maybe what’s happening to the Westwood name at large right now is a reckoning,” I said. “The media circus and the articles tearing them apart piece by piece. Maybe they’re finally getting what they deserve.”
Miranda’s cottage suddenly fell completely quiet, especially since there wasn’t even ambient or traffic noise filtering in from outside. It was tucked into a small, touristy town outside the city, where the very air itself smelled faintly like baked bread and overpriced candles. We’d gone for a walk earlier and the streetswere lined with shops that closed at five like it was still the eighties.
She’d invited me here out of the blue this afternoon and I’d said yes because I’d desperately needed to get away. I was now quickly learning that no matter how far a person ran, our troubles—and our heartache—tended to come with us.
Miranda stared at me quietly for several very long moments before she shook her head. “Okay, look, I see where you’re coming from with the wholeWestwoods at largething. It seems like the family on the other side of the pond are terrible fucking people, but nothing I’ve seen from the American Westwoods suggest they’ve got the same mindset. Just something to think about.”
I smiled at her and nodded, but neither of our opinions made much of a difference. The fact of the matter was that family would always come first with the Westwoods and I would never be a part of that.
No matter how deeply I understood their current plight and their desire to protect Zach, Icouldnotlose myself to people who wouldnevercare about me. They’d burn down the world for each other, but I wasn’t picking up a torch knowing none of them would ever even light a match for me.
Much later in the evening, Miranda had gone to bed and I was alone in the living room, refilling my glass every so often like it would bring about meaningful change in my life. Rationally, I knew the only change it would bring was a headache and post-party guilt in the morning, but nothing else was going to change my circumstances right now either.
Everything kept circling back to Jesse. I set my glass down and sighed, staring out the window at the dark stretch of nothing beyond the porch light and missing him as acutely as if he’d been a limb. I’d thought that maybe putting physical distance between us would help. I’d told myself that a weekend away would clearmy head and help me reset. Perhaps even remind me that I’d had a life before him.
It had, however, not done any of those things.
When I realized there were tears stinging my eyes again, I scoffed and swiped them away with the back of my hand.Enough, Jacque. That’s quite enough.
I stood up immediately and took my once again empty glass to the little kitchenette. I rinsed it and headed to my bedroom, intent on putting yet another day without him to bed.Surely, it will get easier as time passes. It has to.
Unfortunately, my phone had been charging on the nightstand, and as soon as I picked it up, I saw a missed call waiting for me. From none other than Jesse Westwood.
My heart did this stupid, traitorous little leap. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get ahold of me, but so far, I hadn’t picked up because I honestly didn’t know what to say.I still like you, but your entire family structure is fundamentally incompatible with my existence?
A tipsy giggle slid out of me at the thought, but as the screen faded to black, discomfort instead of amusement took up residence in my chest. Along with regret and longing, it pushed me to return the call.