Chapter 5

Us

AN: This goes with another chapter from Meredith's (Blake's sister) POV. At this point, this isn't even in the same realm as msec, but..

"That's not what I'm saying, Meredith."

She ignored him, continuing to carefully stir the mix in the metal bowl as she slowly poured in the wet ingredients.

"Talk to me," Jacob said.

She stress baked, but she had inherited the kitchen skills of her mother, so the only recipe she could successfully follow was one for banana muffins. The counters were covered in flour, the stovetop had drops of spilled batter, and the kitchen table was filled with trays where muffins had been placed to cool.

"I'm investing in us," she told him. She was twenty-three, but she felt like she was going on forty-five. She was supposed to be going out, getting drunk, and having fun. "You shouldn't be planning for 2040," friends have said. Her whisk turned violent. "Not just me."

"I know that, Sweetheart."

Two months ago, she'd taken a step back from her family's company because Jacob needed the extra support.

"You do realize what you're asking of me, don't you? Moving to California…" Her life was here on the East Coast. She had three years left at Yale in pursuit of her joint MBA/JD degree, and although her father had made it more than clear that a master's degree was unnecessary given the copious amount of experience she had in business, she wouldn't give up on her education.

"I know."

There were numerous campaign trails in their future, and she knew that since they began dating at seventeen, but she was only capable of giving so much of herself away before she became unrecognizable.

"I won't be the next Hillary!"

Jacob took her cheeks into his hands.

"I love you," he said. "I'll never force you into something you're not comfortable doing. You come first, always."

With his ambitions, that's not how it would always work.

He kissed her forehead.

"We still have time to meet your parents." His palms slid down to her waist, settling on her hips. "I'll call for a car while you get changed."

"Okay," she breathed. She dropped her whisk in the mixing bowl and leaned into him. "I love you," she said.

He pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. She didn't have to explain because she knew that he understood.

"It's okay, just don't ever compare me to Bill Clinton again."

She laughed.