Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN WHO FINALLY CHOSE HERSELF
I returned to nursing school the following fall.
Not because Vincent paid for it.
Not because Sebastian Rourke offered a scholarship.
Because I applied for financial aid, received a legitimate scholarship, and worked with the school's admissions office to restart the education I'd postponed.
The first morning, I stood outside the nursing building holding a backpack and a coffee.
I was twenty-nine.
Older than many of the students.
Nervous.
And happier than I'd been in years.
Vincent called.
"First day?"
I smiled.
"First day."
"Are you nervous?"
"Terrified."
He laughed softly.
"You'll be fine."
"You don't know that."
"No," he admitted. "But I know you."
I looked toward the building.
"Vincent?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for not trying to solve everything for me."
He was quiet.
Then said, "Thank you for teaching me the difference."
School was hard.
There were exams.
Clinical rotations.
Long nights.
And moments when I wondered whether I'd made a mistake.
But every time I felt overwhelmed, I remembered the woman I'd been at Bellini's.
The woman who stood frozen while Tyler humiliated her.
The woman who believed she had to accept cruelty because she wasn't beautiful enough to deserve kindness.
I wasn't that woman anymore.
My mother grew stronger.
Her doctors adjusted her treatment.
She began volunteering at a community center twice a week.
And she developed a habit of asking Vincent uncomfortable questions whenever he visited.
One Sunday, she looked at him across the dinner table.
"Do you love my daughter?"
I nearly choked on my water.
"Mom!"
Vincent set down his fork.
He looked at her.
"Yes."
The room went silent.
My mother studied him.
"Then don't make her feel she has to earn it."
Vincent nodded.
"I won't."
I stared at my plate.
My face burned.
After dinner, I walked him to the door.
"I'm sorry about my mother."
He smiled.
"Don't be."
"She interrogates everyone."
"I noticed."
I hesitated.
"Did you mean what you said?"
His expression softened.
"Every word."
My heart pounded.
I looked up at him.
"Then I should probably tell you something."
He waited.
"I love you too."
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he smiled.
Not the careful smile he wore in public.
A real one.
Warm.
Almost disbelieving.
May you like
He reached for my hand.
And I let him.
