Page 15

T HE MORE WE REPEAT the scene, the more Remington smiles with both cheeks. I’m so relieved that I laugh lighter alongside him, celebrating as his joyous, playful spirit shines.

But one morning, Remington stops in my entryway with a contemplative hum - just as I’m strapping on my boots to head out the door for work.

“Maybe you also have more dragons than you thought,” Remington mutters.

I peek at him with one foot still in the air, my eyes wide.

He chuckles, looping my scarf around my head. “Sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about how badass you looked cooking breakfast. I know it’s a rough industry, and I don’t know jack shit about cooking compared to you, but I don’t know - it’s in the way you hold yourself in front of that stove and have no second guesses about which spices you’re throwing in, or how much of each ingredient to add no matter what we’re cooking. Or when you knew the legitimate chemistry behind why I burned my fucking eggs again, and then just casually dropped the bomb that you learned all this yourself . It’s just— I want you to feel acknowledged for how hard you’ve worked. You’ve worked beyond hard, baby girl. Harder than you should’ve as a sous chef. Maybe it’s not you, and they’re just dragons.”

My heart hammers wildly as I stare at my bleary-eyed boyfriend in only his T-shirt and boxers, spouting what would’ve been life-saving words for a younger Lilibeth.

What if he’s right? I’ve already climbed the industry years longer than Gabby, Paolo, and Ben, which is why I’m the sous chef beneath Giuliano.

Yet he treats me like I’m incapable.

But is that really on him, or is it still my own doing? Maybe I’m doing something wrong?

“Hey.” Remington lifts my chin. “No matter what, I see it: you’re a fucking rockstar at what you do. Take care of your heart for me while you’re at work, okay?”

Biting my lip, I nod. “Thank you, love. T-that means a lot.”

Standing on my toes to meet his lips, I cup his cheeks to sink into a lingering kiss. His warm hand swoops behind my back, tucking me closer with a quick, soothing squeeze. When he releases me, I see it: the warm, tender confidence in Remington’s eyes when he looks at me.

I’m capable to him.

Why am I not capable in my own eyes?

Is it Dad’s abuse clinging to me, or is it my own, based on how he taught me to see myself? Do I also believe I’m everyone’s punching bag?

It terrifies me. I grasp Remington’s hand. “Rem, I don’t want to just be head chef. I’ve always wanted to open my own restaurant. I want to nourish people with my own food.”

Blinking rapidly, Remington gapes. Then he bursts into the most vibrant, wholehearted grin.

With just that one look, I feel like my dreams have already come true - that someone else can see it, so it’s already in the works. It’s possible. I beam from ear to ear, letting out a joyous giggle.

Remington softens into a touched, gentle smile. “You’ve never shared that with me before. It makes me so fucking excited for you, L.L.B., you have no idea. I can’t wait to see you achieve it.”

His words boost my soul so electrically that I feel like running a mile. Except I can’t; I have to hurry before I miss the bus to work.

I’ve never felt so earnestly seen by anyone except Remington. After 15 brutal years of grinding my way up the restaurant industry from fast food to luxury, he’s one of the few people who have acknowledged my efforts. But he meant every word. His bright, beaming black eyes stick in my mind the whole bus ride to work, forcing me to hide my smile in my scarf.

So the second I see Ben muttering snickering insults into Paolo’s ear when I clock into work, it’s a stark, horrifying difference from how Remington and I treat each other. Fresh alarm bells ring in my head that stopped sounding three years ago - when Giuliano convinced me this was “just how it was” in professional kitchens.

My jaw tenses with Paolo’s shoulders. He’s not defending himself, either.

And I’ve had enough.

Marching up to Ben, I harden my resolve. “Ben, what are you doing?”

Ben whips around, searching for the voice questioning him. When he realizes that voice belongs to me, his wide eyes soften into laughter.

“Dude, Lily, chill out. You have no sense of humor—”

“ Enough ,” I say.

Gabby stops chopping celery to look at me with wide eyes, sending a jolt through my chest. Am I doing the wrong thing? Should I not have spoken up for once?

But as Ben chuckles, opening his mouth to say something else, Remington’s words click into place; Ben isn’t the only one treating me poorly. Paolo stands up for me occasionally, but only when someone drags him into it. Gabby pretends nothing bad happens at all, just like Mom. Servers and bussers follow Giuliano’s lead, using sharp, angry words the entire shift, making it ten times more exhausting to hand orders to them and have to listen to them fight while I’m hoping to cook customers warm, loving meals.

And of course they all act like this. Our head chef treats me the same way in front of everyone, and I’m supposed to be his right hand.

Gripping my fresh apron, my voice shakes as I interrupt Ben. “I said, enough. What do you think you’re accomplishing right now?”

Ben’s jaw hardens. “What the hell is your problem today?”

Giuliano clocks in, still tying his apron as he stomps through the doorway. “Why the fuck is no one cooking?”

The dragon horde has gathered in one place. Sucking in a fiery breath, I picture banishing them from my inner kingdom, loosening my shoulders.

That doesn’t mean this isn’t terrifying.

I quiver as I turn to Guiliano. “Why? I’ll tell you why.”

His eyes widen. No one dares to move. Even a few servers freeze in the doorway, awaiting my next words. My eyes bulge just as much as theirs, but a protective rage settles into my chest. If it were little Remington who I was protecting, I’d have no qualms. But Remington helped me realize that whenever someone crushes the cook in me, they’re sinking their claws straight into little Lilibeth - the one who dared to save her own life by joining this industry, even if she’d be a laughingstock. I don’t want her to suffer anymore.

Tears prick my eyes. “I’m sick of how you treat me. Treat each other. I know I don’t say much, and I can be awkward, but do you have to treat me like absolute shit for this kitchen to function? I just want to fucking cook! ”

Gabby’s shoulders droop. “Lily...”

Giuliano continues to gape, but when he opens his mouth, I stand taller.

“This is not how things should be run. When I cook for our community, it’s because I want to nourish their bodies, and hopefully help them experience one moment of delight in this cruel world. And what are your bitter comments accomplishing? You really don’t think it makes our muscles weaker, distracts our minds, and tears at our hearts? And maybe you don’t feel the same, but I see my job as to nurture through food. How can I do my job properly in a hateful environment when all I want to do is share love?” I huff through hot, aching breaths. “Just let me cook in peace. Let me live.”

No one has moved. Not even Gabby seems to know what to say, her arms limp at her sides. Do they all think I’m crazy now?

Snatching a cleaning cloth, I wipe one of the steel tables.

“G-get back to work,” I mutter.

Everyone bursts into action, hustling to their next task without a single word of complaint. I freeze, gazing at the determined focus around me.

They listened.

I want to feel proud for finally speaking up. But as tears cloud my eyes, my forehead warps from the pain in my chest.

Why can’t I convince Dad not to hurt me? What am I doing wrong?

I haven’t visited Mom and Dad since I showed Remington what Dad did to me. Witnessing someone else’s shock over my injuries hit a deep nerve, reminding me that no, this isn’t normal, and I can’t afford Dad seeing his physical force as a reopened door. Remington assured he’d be at my side as a buffer the next time I visit, but I still hate that Mom has no choice. She’s trapped in a prison she didn’t mean to enter, maybe for the rest of her life.

Turning away from the table, I swipe at my gushing eyes with my apron, hating that I’m crying in front of everyone here. But I crash straight into Guiliano’s chest. I gasp, taking a few steps back. “S-sorry.”

I try to circle around him, but Giuliano blocks my way with a hand open in front of me. “Come into the back with me for a moment, please.”

My heart flips. What’s he going to say? I undermined his authority in front of our whole staff. He can’t fire me over this, can he?

Ducking my head, I follow Giuliano's swift steps to the back room. At least the speed we’re walking prevents me from having to be witnessed for too long.

But when the door shuts behind us, Giuliano snatches a tissue and whips around. “Lift your chin.”

Defensive fear tightens my muscles. But as I take the tissue from Giuliano, I find his face startlingly neutral. Turning my side to him, I do my best to quickly clean myself up and stop crying.

But I can’t help it. A well has overflowed in my heart, aching at all the time and joy Mom and I lost to Dad’s will.

Giuliano crosses his arms. “I want to retire.”

I gasp, meeting his eyes. “What?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to speak up so you could take my place. They’ll trample you if you don’t keep that chin up, and I don’t want to see a good cook lose their passion. Not many in the industry have the heart behind their work to back up their skill.”

Is he finally acknowledging me? Telling me I’m still his one and only choice for head chef?

I always thought I’d feel a sense of validation if this ever came true, but as I face Giuliano, I grit my jaw. “So you decided to harass me into shape? How well do you think that worked?”

He tenses. To my surprise, he drops his head. “So, what? Are you quitting?”

I sigh. “No. I need this job to keep my family alive. I’m going to keep cooking.”

“Good.”

Silence stretches between us. But my tears resurface, refusing to be shoved down anymore. I fetch another tissue, struggling to tame my breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Lily? Is something else going on?”

“Maybe,” I mutter.

“How about you go home, and I’ll cover for you. Do you need a few extra days off this week?”

My stomach flips. “Oh. That would be nice.”

“Go home, then. Take care of yourself.”

Giuliano rushes back to the kitchen to take my place, leaving me in a daze. I slowly fetch my things, returning my apron to my locker. Is he really taking in my words?

Or is he getting rid of me for the week to force everyone to forget about what I said? My hopes plummet. Dashing back into the kitchen, I hold my breath, expecting to see utter chaos.

But it’s silent. Calm.

Giuliano speaks low at the cutting board as everyone works. “You heard our sous chef. Things need to change around here.”

My heart is just as sore, but my shoulders loosen just enough to propel me out the doors.

All I can think about is Annabella. She went through the process of cutting ties with Mom and Dad, all alone as a teenager. Dad always faced me alone, but I similarly have no idea what he did to her. I only know she survived him long enough to leave him behind on her own, and that her rage was only evidence of how badly her heart hurt through every waking moment.

Pacing across the sidewalk in front of work, I open my phone’s contact list. I stop at the nearest bench when I zip up to her name. It’s been two years since I’ve dared to contact her, especially after she made it clear she was furious with me for paying Dad’s rent. She didn’t let me explain the full situation - that I was still on her side, not Dad’s.

But explaining myself isn’t what’s most important anymore. Even if she hates me for calling, I want to try to apologize for hurting her from the bottom of my heart. To tell her I love her, at least one last time.

Trembling on the bench, I’m wide-eyed as the dial tone rings. I cling to my scarf, shivering in the icy January wind. The longer it rings, the more I feel like a horrible person. I’m breaking her consent, aren’t I? Should I have asked Remington what he thought about this first?

But the second I hear Annabella’s frantic breath on the phone, I clutch my scarf tighter, missing her enough to warp my eyebrows.

“What’s wrong? What did he do?” She snaps, her fear prickling my skin.

“N-nothing, well–”

I swallow hard. If I tell her he bruised me recently for the first time in 15 years, she’ll lose it.

Closing my eyes, I open my heart. “That’s not why I’m calling. Annabella, I love you. I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings so drastically. No matter what everyone else says, I’ll always believe you in what they put you through, and I hate that you might think otherwise. I’d never, ever want to hurt you more after all you went through, but I did, and I’m so sorry. I’m still on your side.”

Pure silence stretches on the line, long enough for me to remove the phone from my ear to make sure we didn’t disconnect. I’m dying to jump from the bench, to run from the stinging fear in my heart that I might’ve hurt Annabella even more, but I’m frozen in terror. I don’t want to lose her forever.

Finally, Annabella sighs. “Lilibeth, I love you with my whole fucking heart, but I’m still furious with you. How could you be on my side when you’re paying for his alcohol?”

I gasp. “What?! No, Annabella, you never let me finish explaining what I meant when I said I was paying for their livelihood. I’m not cutting them a small check to just do whatever with; Dad can’t work because Mom can’t do anything herself, so I’m paying their rent - to the penny. He has to use every last bit of it to keep a roof over their heads.”

Annabeth groans. “You seriously think he’s not still using it to buy booze and going into debt? That he’s not the one making her constantly on the edge of homelessness in the first place?”

My teeth clench. “I don’t know, but what am I supposed to do, let Mom die?”

She scoffs. “I don’t know. She’d still choose him over both of us either way, so that’s her problem.”

My stomach drops to the bench beneath me, leaving me reeling. The hurt in her words wasn’t just directed at our parents this time, but me. “Do you seriously think I actually, intentionally abandoned you too? After all we both went through together?”

“No– Well, I don’t know.” Her breath hitches. “It felt like it that day. I guess I didn’t know all the details. Maybe I was a little harsh to cut you off without letting you explain, but–” She tightens her tone back into anger. “It’s more than that too. I just can’t stand to watch you hurting yourself more by going back to him. I just don’t understand it.”

I can hardly process the thoughts flooding my mind before my sister seethes through her teeth.

“It makes me sick to my stomach that you know what he does to you, yet you’re continually putting yourself in harm’s way in front of him for Mom - when she doesn’t even want you to.”

My heart flinches like she left a searing scratch over it. “W-what? How could you say that? She’s trapped, she can’t walk–”

“Lily, for God’s sake, you’re not okay. It’s like those plane safety rules - put on your own damn oxygen mask first. How can you save Mom when you need saving, yourself?” She raises her voice, but her quivering tells me she’s crying alongside me. “You didn’t abandon me; you abandoned yourself.”

Annabella single-handedly strips the air from my lungs. I gape on the bench, my heartbeat hammering. This is just like what I discovered about little Remington - why his adult self loves playing the hero. And why I love taking my power back by letting him borrow all of it.

But I can’t give up on Mom.

Annabella’s anger fades by the second, her voice wavering through gut-wrenching pain. “I couldn’t save you either, Lils. I tried so hard, but here I am, having to hear that man probably hurt my baby sister again? How do you think I feel?”

Tears spill before I can register them. I swipe them away, only for three more to gush out. I laugh through my stuffy nose. “A lot like I do, I guess. So pretty shitty.”

She huffs in annoyance. Then she laughs. I break into weepy giggles with her until we’re both laughing, only separated by Annabella’s groans.

“You drive me crazy. But not like Dad. I love you, baby Beth. Thanks for apologizing, but don’t worry so much about me, okay? I just want you to be happy. To feel safe.”

She sounds just like Mom.

“But I miss you.” My lip wobbles as horrendous, longing tears wrack my gut.

Annabella sniffles through the silence with me. I can hear the pain in her shuddering breath, forcing me to shut my eyes hard to swallow it down.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I really hurt you too,” she whispers.

I don’t know what to say. She did, and I didn’t realize how badly it stung until now.

Her clothes shuffle against the microphone, painting a clear picture of her squaring her shoulders, as always. She hardens her voice to feign confidence, no matter how deeply she’s hurting. “Okay, Lilibeth, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to keep talking this through with you, okay? We’ll figure this out together once we’re in a better headspace. In the meantime, just get out of his immediate reach. Please.”

I huff, swiping thick tears from my eyes. “I will. I decided it was finally time, and I have a really sweet boyfriend who will protect me, but still– I’m scared.”

“I know. I still am too.”

My heart drops as her true feelings click into place; Annabella wasn’t pulling away from me. If she breaks her vow to cut contact with Mom and Dad, it will break the power behind her “no.”

Yet she still picked up the phone for me. I’m not her dragon.

After I annoy her with three more I love yous, I promise to tell her what happened between Dad and me to make me call - since I can’t get away with hiding anything from my older sister - and I hang up with a tumultuous heart.

My head spins. I know what I have to do, but can I? I might have slain multiple dragons today, but I’ve left the biggest one for last, and I’m terrified that I’m not strong enough to face him alone.

I need to see my knight.

By the time the next bus can take me close to home, Remington will be twenty minutes into his shift at Club X. I switch bus lines, opting to find him there instead. Maybe I’ll be interrupting and distracting him from his job, but this feels like an “alligator” moment, and I don’t want to trudge through it with anyone except Remington.

But just like Remington waited until he felt safe enough to share details about his uncle, I haven’t shared all the details about Mom’s health with Remington. He knows she placates Dad and that I want to pay their rent to keep Mom alive while she’s trapped, but he doesn’t realize the additional gravity of it. I’ve been so afraid that if I tell him she can’t even walk, he’ll reiterate the fears I’ve had to face my whole life: as long as Dad is alive to reign over Mom’s life, she’s trapped forever.

But I can’t agree with Annabella that Mom doesn’t want my help. I saw how quiet Mom became the last time I was there - when I said I might be able to lift her now. Maybe she’s ready to leave. If I ask her directly for the first time, telling her the truth about what Dad does to me and that I’m scared he’s hurting her too, maybe we can be done with him forever, instead. Annabella doesn’t know I’ve worked hard with Remington to craft my own oxygen mask.

Adjusting to the club's darkness, my chest clenches tighter by the second; I can’t find Remington in the halls. He’s in the dungeon.

Without thinking, I make a beeline for it. But I stop at the door. I’ve never entered those doors without Remington allowing me to watch. Is this a private party today, or have they not started yet? Just as my hand lands on the door to take a peek, a gloved hand appears above mine.

I snap my hand back with a gasp, smashing my back into the hallway wall.

Miss X’s eyebrows raise beneath her mask. “Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?”

With her soft touch on my shoulder, my last semblance of composure snaps. I erupt into tears, grasping her hand. “Where’s Remi?”

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’d say I’d fetch him for you, but Remi’s a good boy - he’s already spotted you through the doors, and he’s rushing over like his life depends on it.” Miss X smiles, staring through the window. “Maybe it does. Clearly, you’re his heart.”

Her words lift my soul. Can she tell? How powerful it feels just to look into Remington’s eyes, finding him staring back with just as much pure love?

Miss X slips from my grasp with a wink, opening the door for Remington.

Rushing to my side with wide, panicked eyes, Remington cups my wet cheeks in his big palms. “What is it? Something happened.”

“I need to carry my mom,” I whimper.

Remington’s brows furrow. “You’ve said that before, haven’t you? When we first met.”

I let out a panicked, despairing cry. “It’s been too long. I don’t know what to do. I never have.”

Remington’s expression hardens into determined neutrality. Slipping his hand into mine, he guides me from the dungeon, unlocking the first private room he can find. Closing the door behind us with his back, Remington pulls me into his arms for a tight, reassuring squeeze.

“Breathe, baby. Tell me from the beginning.”

I tell him everything: how it wasn’t as severe at first, but Mom deteriorated over the years, how she was eventually diagnosed with MS, but they said it was showing up worse for her than most, how I pretended Dad didn't hit me so Mom couldn't stress more, but Mom deteriorated more anyway until she couldn’t walk, how Dad decided he was worth nothing unless he was Mom’s one and only source of life, and how when I had to leave home because I wanted to either leave or kill myself from feeling like a burden, Mom told me she would be fine without me, so I took the chance to restart my life - saving myself.

“I thought I needed to become strong enough to carry her home . But I finally called Annabella.”

Remington blinks a few times. “No way.”

“I know. We made up, I think. But Annabella thinks our mom genuinely doesn’t want my help, and I’m so scared she’s right. But I can’t accept that yet, Rem. I think I need to say goodbye to my dad one last time, tell my mom the truth, and hope she actually wants to come home with me. To leave him with me.” I grip my head, steadying myself in Remington’s solid focus. “But fuck, even if she does, nothing has really changed. I can’t afford a specialist for her. She can’t care for herself, and I can’t afford a caregiver, so all she has is my dad. He does everything for her, but that scares me. I don’t know if he hurts her when he’s frustrated too.”

“ Fuck , your dad is just–” Remington grips his forehead almost as hard as he clenches his teeth. “Okay, so if this were the best case scenario, what would you want to do instead?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “I-I don’t know. I can’t offer her to live with me if I can’t afford to care for her. How could I have time to work and be her constant caretaker at the same time?”

“Then do you want to take her home to live with you alone, or what if she comes home to live with both of us? We could share the load together. Split one rent payment, care for her, and probably even afford a caregiver.”

I gape at Remington, unmoving. When I realize he’s serious - that this moment is real, and I didn’t die and go to heaven - tears slip from my eyes. “Oh, my God, you're a sweetheart.”

Remington pulls me closer, cupping my cheeks to wipe tears from my eyes. “No, I just love you. And I’m really serious about this offer. I–” He softens his voice. “I want to spend my life with you.”

Elation strikes my whole being, weakening my knees. I lean into Remington, scooping up his sweet face in my hands. “Oh, God, yes, Rem. So do I.”

This time, the tears escaping my eyes are filled with pure joy. I hop on my toes in excitement, arching Remington’s eyebrows as he gives me the sweetest, most emotional smile. Crashing into a fierce kiss, we cling to each other with our full hands, squeezing like we can’t get close enough without melting into one.

Remington breaks our kiss with an elated, breathy laugh. “God, you’re so sweet. Are you as happy as I am, baby? Because I feel like my life was just made.”

I sigh through a watery smile. Stroking my thumb beneath Remington’s eye to catch a joyous tear, I float in the clouds. Is this really the same man who was afraid to let me love him, terrified we’d warp into the same monstrous familial relationship he grew up under?

“Rem, I’m so many things. My heart is so happy, my soul feels safe, and I feel so, so proud of you for allowing yourself to be here with me.”

Melting into a soft smile, he draws me into a gentler kiss. We linger, holding one another in a blissful silence.

Remington seals our kiss with an even deeper press, easing his lips off mine. “You rescued me last, so now it’s my turn to rescue you from the dragon, L.L.B. If we visit your parents, and you decide you feel ready to take your mom home, I've got your back.”

As he settles me onto the couch to ground me with loving, sweeping touches, I know he has far more than my back; he’s holding my whole heart, and I’m holding his.