Chapter 187
Summer's POV
"Just took off while my mom was working a double shift. Drove the car we shared to God knows where, emptied the joint account, left her stranded at the hospital with no way home." His jaw tightened. "She had to borrow a coworker's phone to call me. I had to wire money just so she could get a bus back."
I couldn't speak. I just held his hand tighter.
"Summer, I didn't know how to tell you that part," he said. "The cart failing—that felt like something I could fix. But this..." He shook his head. "This is just who he is. Who I come from."
"That's not who you are," I said fiercely. "That has nothing to do with who you are."
He looked at me then, something fragile passing across his face before he nodded once. "Okay. Thank you."
I felt my nose prickle, the threat of tears sudden and sharp, but I forced them back. My mind was already racing ahead, trying to think of what he needed right now—not just practical help with the police or the food cart, but something deeper. He'd just lost the closest thing he had to a father figure, even if that man had been terrible. His whole family was in crisis. And all I could think was that he shouldn't have to face this alone, shouldn't have to go back to that empty triple-decker in Southie where every corner probably reminded him of what had just been stolen. He needed to know what a real family felt like, what it was like to sit at a dinner table where people actually cared about each other. My chest ached with the sudden fierce need to give him that, to show him he wasn't alone anymore.
I managed a small smile. "So... my mom wants to invite you over for dinner this weekend. She really wants to meet you properly."
The shift in Kieran's expression was immediate. He let go of my hand and took half a step back, his whole body going rigid. "I can't."
"What?" The word came out flat, disbelieving. "Why not?"
He wouldn't look at me. His gaze dropped to the floor, to the scuffed tiles between us, and his right hand clenched and unclenched at his side. "I'm not... I'm not good enough right now."
I stared at him, completely thrown. "What are you talking about? You're more than good enough!"
"No, I'm not." His voice was low, each word precise and deliberate, like he was forcing them out through clenched teeth. "Look at me, Summer. I'm a scholarship kid whose family just lost their only source of income. My dad stole everything I earned and abandoned my mom in some random city. I'm broke. I can barely afford to keep my sister in school." He finally lifted his head, and the look in his eyes—self-loathing mixed with something desperate—made my breath catch. "How am I supposed to walk into your house and tell your mother I'm worthy of dating her daughter?"
The words hit me like a punch to the sternum. "You don't need to prove anything to my mom!"
"Yes, I do." There was steel in his voice now. "I need to prove it to myself first. I want to show up at your door as someone who deserves you. Not as some charity case."
"You're not—"
"I want to get into MIT," he cut me off, his jaw set. "Or Caltech. Or Harvard. Somewhere that proves I'm not just some poor kid who got lucky. I want to win USAPhO. I want to make the IPhO team. I want your mother to look at me and think, 'Okay, this boy can take care of my daughter.' And then—only then—I'll go to that dinner."
My eyes burned. I understood, suddenly and completely. This wasn't about my mother's approval at all. It was about his own.
"How long?" I managed, my voice cracking. "How long do I have to wait?"
His expression softened, just a fraction. He reached out and brushed his thumb across my cheek, catching a tear I hadn't realized had fallen. "Not long. I promise. Give me until winter. If I get into MIT early action... if I make the national team... then I'll go."
I grabbed his hand, holding it against my face. "You promise? You're not going to push me away?"
"I promise," he said, low and fervent, and then he pulled me into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere. I just need a little time to become someone worthy of standing next to you."
I buried my face in his chest, nodding hard enough that I felt his heartbeat against my forehead. "Okay. I'll wait. But you better keep your word."