She might have sold her soul, but I’d be goddamned if she took my family with her on the road to hell. She’d gotten in bed with lie-eating snakes, and there was nowhere to go but to become one of them. I wouldn’t watch her do it to herself. I couldn’t watch her demean herself any more than she already had.

And I wouldn’t become a part of that lie factory with her. Not when my family was at stake.

Not when I knew there was no way to save her.

Blindly, I worked in the flower bed for a dozen painful heartbeats. Until my father cleared his throat.

He stood on the other side of the flower bed, looking sheepish.

“How much of that did you hear?” I asked carefully.

“Well, once she started talking, I couldn’t exactly walk out. If my knees were young enough to crawl, I might have.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let her take us to hell with her.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, son.”

I drew a noisy breath and shifted my gaze to my hands in the dirt. “Don’t worry about me either. I’m fine.”

“You’re not, but why should you be?”

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place.”

“And why not?”

“Because we’re different,” I said to the mums.

“Since when does that hurt?”

“Since I was stupid enough to think I could be with someone who puts herself above everyone else.”

“But that’s not all.”

“No,” I huffed. “It’s not. Girls like her aren’t interested in simple lives. They want some asshole with a PhD and a penthouse, not a man who plays with flowers in the dirt. We’re different, Dad. There’s no getting past that.”

“I dunno. Seems like you’re the one with the problem, not her.”

I paused, glaring up at him. “You can’t be serious. She cares so much what they think of her, she lied about me. She wants to sell our family out for a fucking television show. How am I the one with the problem?”

“Well, for starters, you didn’t even hear her out. You’re so convinced you’re right, you decided for the both of you.”

“I heard enough the other night to have good reason.”

“Son, listen to me.” He watched me until I met his gaze, silver brows drawn. “I know it feels safer to run—you got that gene from me—but think about what you’ll lose. And for what? Fear? Pride? Lila Parker does not strike me as the kind of woman to be anything short of a straight-shooter. And I suspect you care very deeply for her.”

“I do,” I said around the lump in my throat.