I knew my father had made his feelings clear upon our first discussion on the matter. I had brought Grace here; therefore, her and her maid were my responsibility. But given the way she had just spoken to me I did not much feel like company. Of her, or anyone. When I walked away from her I had no intention of turning back, and no plans to see her for the rest of the day. There had been no doubt in my mind that Grace had intended to hurt with her words.
It was bad enough that my own father so openly criticised me. That he could make me feel so low about myself that I doubted every decision I made. That there was an inner little boy within me, despite the fact I was now an adult, who still wondered if I would ever be good enough. I had a father who did that. I did not need a mate who did it too.
