Kenneth cuddled her close, but even his presence couldn’t help her.
Nothing can help me. I’m broken. So broken even my own father rejected me. So broken that I don’t deserve my job, my man… “Why does he hate me?” she whispered. “What did I do that was so terrible?”
“Nothing, baby,” Kenneth breathed. “Nothing at all. It’s his fault if he won’t acknowledge your worth.”
Brooke didn’t believe him. She’d been trained her whole life to accept less, to expect less. Even to be less. Less than a full person. Less than worthy of love, attention or autonomy. To accept control with thanks and insults with gratitude. Her early training urged her to call her father and apologize for anything—nothing.
No, she told herself. I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s right to protect myself from unprovoked attac
