“Then you can go. Leave. I don’t need your love or acceptance. I’ll have Mom and Willow and Rain—” Something between a grunt and a snort leaves him as I say Rain’s name. “That boy almost got you killed,” he retorts, ice in his tone. I grit my teeth. “That boy happens to be the love of my fucking life. And while love isn’t something deemed important to you, it is to me. And I’m not letting you sit here and tell me I can’t love him.”
