Petal [h.s.]

FORTY-NINE - SPREADING YOU OPEN

I needed money. Fast.

I knew it would cost me later, but the idea of missing a trip with Arabella made me feel sick inside. I know she offered to pay me to come with and help her, but I would rather die than take money from her. I should be successful enough to stand on my own two feet. I wanted to take care of her, not the other way around. I knew it was an old misogynistic value, but I loved her. Taking care of her was something I wanted to do and I was angry that I couldn't do that on my own.

But she didn't have to know that.

Arabella didn't have to know my struggles. She didn't have to know the way my father held money over my head. She didn't have to know the ways I grew up compared to the way I lived now. To most people, they'd consider my lifestyle to be comfortable. Some months I struggled. I had to choose to pay certain bills over others and had to cut back on the things I enjoyed. And some months I did just fine, I lived comfortably and got to buy expensive tequila whenever I wanted it. It was up and down. It was normal to most.

But to someone like me who grew up with more money than most people will see in their entire lifetime-it was quite the shock. I went from having everything at my fingertips to nothing. I hadn't adjusted to it very well. I thought about money every day, constantly, and I was in debt from living beyond my means. I didn't expect any sympathy for my situation. I knew that I was a spoiled boy and turned into an even more spoiled man. I knew that I could be worse off.

I just wanted to give her the world. I wanted to lasso the moon down to her. I wanted to buy her beautiful things and take her to extravagant dinners and drape her in diamonds. I wanted to provide for her. I wanted it so badly that it made me feel insane.

Insane enough to steal from my father.

I knew if I tried enough, I could figure out the combination to his safe. He had valuables in it, but I wasn't sure what that included. I was surprised to find no cash and nothing of his own, but jewelry that belonged to my mother instead. I touched each piece, a frown on my mouth at the thought of taking it. I had no qualms about stealing from my dad, whether that be cash or his Rolex or a set of his diamond cufflinks... but my mum's jewelry? It was the only thing we had left of her that wasn't her gardens. And those gardens outside meant more to her than any jewelry.

I knew she didn't care about material possessions, not the way my father did. I touched a gold necklace with a teardrop shaped diamond pendant hanging from it. I knew how much it was worth. It was vintage. It was a present from my father on one of their early dates. He kept it for sentimental reasons. I used to watch him clean it for her every month and watched the way he smiled when he draped it over her throat delicately. He used to kiss the back of her neck after clasping it for her, back when he was gentle and loving and not the awful man he had become.

I stared at it. My head hurt from trying to think of anything else I could sell for money other than my mother's jewelry. I remembered a pair of cufflinks that she gifted to me years ago for a birthday. They were set in gold and shaped like flowers, with diamonds scattered throughout. I cherished those, but I figured it was better to sell my own things before I sell hers.