"He's not right for you."
"You don't know that."
"I know he's got a record, I know he's violent, I know he's obsessed."
"Stop calling him obsessed."
"Then what should I call it?"
"Protective, caring, interested."
"Those are nice words for stalking."
"He wasn't stalking me."
"Then what was he doing outside your flat at midnight?"
I go still. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I have eyes everywhere and I know everything."
"Of course you do."
"Don't be mad. I’m looking out for you."
"I don't need looking out for."
"Everyone needs looking out for."
I take a breath and try to calm down. "Look, I appreciate that you care. But I'm okay. Rush is a good guy."
"He's dangerous."
"So are you. That doesn't make you a bad person."
"It's different with me."
"How?"
"Because I've learned control. I've learned when to use violence and when to walk away."
"And you don't think Rush has?"
"I think he's still learning and I don't want you to be collateral damage while he figures it out."
The words hit harder than I expect and I know he's not trying to be cruel. He's trying to protect me.
But it still pisses me off.
"I can take care of myself," I say.
"I know you can, but you shouldn't have to."
"That's life, Dad. Everyone's got shit they're dealing with. That doesn't mean I run when it gets hard."
"I'm not asking you to run. I'm asking you to be smart."
"I am being smart. I'm choosing someone who makes me feel something."