The Pervasive Fear of Abandonment in Beg, Borrow, or Steal

In Sarah Adams’s romance Beg, Borrow, or Steal, the fear of abandonment threads through every page, shaping the emotional landscape of the novel’s fiercely independent heroine. Emily Walker has spent years constructing a life designed to protect her from one devastating certainty: the people she loves will leave. That conviction—born from profound childhood loss and later reinforced by adult betrayal—fuels her perfectionism, her reluctance to depend on anyone, and her terrified resistance to loving Jackson “Jack” Bennett. The novel argues that fear of abandonment, while a powerful prison, can be dismantled not through grand gestures but through patient, consistent presence and the courageous choice to trust despite every instinct screaming otherwise. This study guide traces how that theme unfolds across the plot, explores its roots in Emily’s past, examines the ways it complicates her relationships, and highlights how the romance ultimately becomes a vehicle for healing.

The Deep Roots of Emily’s Fear

Emily’s terror of being left behind begins in childhood. When she was eight years old, her adventurous parents died in a lightning strike during a camping trip in Colorado. She learned then that the people who are supposed to stay forever can vanish in an instant. The evidence reveals that, as the eldest daughter, she immediately assumed the role of emotional anchor for her siblings. During storms, she would let her sisters climb into her bed, reassure them with promises that she would never leave, and even give her older brother tasks to distract him from panic. As she confesses to Jack in the dark of the bar after a power outage, “I needed stability and reassurance that everything was going to be okay—but both of those things died with my parents, and I’ve never gotten them back.”

That early loss forged a pattern: Emily became the fixer, the one who holds everything together, because if she let herself feel the terror of being alone, she might shatter. She learned to stuff her fear and sadness into what she calls her “Treasure Chest of Doom” and pretend they don’t exist. The death of her grandmother, the last parental figure, deepened the wound. At the funeral, she watched her siblings turn away from each other in grief—Noah to Amelia, Annie to Will, Madison to her life in New York—and felt utterly unnecessary. That moment of feeling that nobody needed her anymore ignited a silent desperation that drives much of her behavior in the novel.

A Betrayal That Reinforced the Walls

If parental loss taught Emily that love is dangerous, her college boyfriend Liam proved that even chosen love is undependable. In a pivotal scene late in the story, Emily finally admits the truth she has hidden for years: Liam didn’t ask her to move with him; he broke up with her because he wanted to date other people. Noah, hearing the confession, recognizes the damage immediately. “He didn’t leave you behind, Em. He rejected you,” he says, urging her to stop letting that old wound keep her from happiness. Emily had been carrying a false narrative—that Liam simply moved on and she was left behind—when in reality the betrayal was more personal and more painful. The shame of that rejection fused with her original abandonment fear, convincing her that letting someone in always ends in loss. As a result, she keeps Jack at arm’s length, telling herself she’s fine being alone, that everyone eventually moves on but she will always be right there where they left her.

Fear Takes Control: Three Key Plot Moments

Emily’s fear of abandonment erupts at critical junctures, nearly derailing her chance at love.

First, when her brother Noah casually announces that he no longer needs her to run the family pie shop because he’s hired a full-time manager, Emily reacts with a panic she cannot voice. The narrator reveals her internal spiral: “He doesn’t need me. No one needs me anymore. Don’t cry.” Instead of expressing her hurt, she retreats to the bathroom, stands on a toilet for cell service, and sends a reckless text to Jack—an impulsive cry for connection she’d never allow herself sober. The moment captures the theme perfectly: her fear of being discarded triggers a desperate attempt to reach out even as she tells herself she’s fine.

Second, after her romance manuscript is brutally rejected and she and Jack have their fiercest fight, Emily’s fear drives her to push him away with surgical precision. She accuses him of being a hypocrite, of hiding his own secret writing career while demanding her vulnerability. When he presses for a relationship definition, she deflects, insisting on a breather. Later, alone, she admits the truth: “I don’t know if I can give him what he wants… Each time I mentally walk myself down the path of telling Jack I love him… my body tenses up. Fight or flight kicks in and a thousand memories rush to the surface. People I love die. Or they hide things from me and leave.” This internal paralysis is the theme’s emotional core—love has become synonymous with impending loss.

Third, during the family gathering at James’s farmhouse, Jack apologizes for pushing her and promises to move at her pace, swearing he wants all her sharp edges. Overwhelmed by the day’s emotional weight—including a photograph of her parents in a blooming garden—Emily panics and hides in a walk-in pantry. Surrounded by her sisters, she finally admits Jack may have borrowed her heart but she’s terrified of changing her life. Noah clears the room and forces her to confront the Liam betrayal. Her fear is so ingrained that even after a declaration of love and a genuine apology, she flees physically because the prospect of staying and trusting feels more dangerous than hiding among canned goods.

Healing Through Patience and Witness

The novel does not pretend that fear evaporates with one heart-to-heart. Instead, healing comes in layers, each one involving someone who refuses to leave.

Madison Walker’s unexpected return proves pivotal. When Emily comforts her sister with their grandmother’s hot chocolate ritual, the connection reminds her that mutual support is possible. Madison’s fierce defense of Emily’s manuscript and her insistence that Emily stop bottling up emotions opens the door to a new kind of vulnerability. Emily wonders, “Would it feel this way with Jack too? My gut says yes. My fear, however, isn’t ready to let go quite yet where he’s concerned.” The sisters’ pledge to lean on each other models the very trust Emily needs to extend to Jack.

Mabel, the innkeeper, offers Jack the wisdom that ultimately enables his patience. She shares her own story of being terrified of love after loss and explains that Emily is “probably scared to death of you” because she has lost too many people. Her advice—“go slow… let her heart love you softly until it’s ready for something bigger”—reshapes Jack’s entire approach. He stops pushing for a definition and simply shows up, eats Amelia’s terrible pancakes, and promises to move at Emily’s pace.

The climax of the healing arc occurs after the public revelation of Jack’s secret pen name and his father’s narcissism. In a quiet, ordinary day of comfort, Jack tells Emily he is selling his motorcycle because her peace of mind matters more than the bike. That symbolic sacrifice—giving up a machine that represents his independence and his ability to leave at any moment—is what finally dismantles Emily’s last wall. The narrator states plainly: “she realizes she no longer fears he will abandon her.” The fear does not vanish through argument; it dissolves through the evidence of Jack’s unwavering presence and his willingness to trade a potential escape route for the tangible commitment of staying.

Complexity: The Armor of Strength

Emily’s fear of abandonment is complicated by her outward persona. She is not a fragile, weepy character; she is ferocious, controlled, and cutting. She weaponizes jokes and “dead parents” quips to keep people at a safe distance. She tells herself—and others—that she’s not scared, that she doesn’t need anyone, that she’s fine being alone. This bravado is both a shield and a cage. The novel refuses to sentimentalize her fear, showing how it makes her prickly, occasionally cruel, and deeply reluctant to offer the same grace she so desperately longs to receive. Her healing, therefore, is not just about learning to trust Jack; it’s about unlearning the identity of the indestructible eldest daughter that she adopted at eight and allowing herself to be seen as messy, afraid, and worthy of care.

Symbols That Echo the Theme

Several symbols deepen the exploration of abandonment and trust. Emily’s red cowboy boots serve as a visual signature of her fierce individuality—they are the armor she puts on to face the world, but they also mark her as someone who stands out and therefore might be left behind. Jack’s motorcycle becomes the tangible symbol of his freedom and the fear it provokes in Emily; selling it is his ultimate pledge of permanence. Ducky the kitten represents the small, vulnerable life that both characters learn to care for together—a living embodiment of the trust Emily is so reluctant to extend. And the corner table at the Hot Bean, constantly fought over and eventually shared, becomes the site of their most honest conversations, a fixed point in a world that has taught Emily nothing stays fixed.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Emily’s fear of abandonment manifest in her adult relationships before she acknowledges it?
   She becomes a controlling perfectionist who needs to be needed and refuses to depend on anyone. She keeps Jack at a distance, picking fights and denying her feelings, because engaging fully would risk the pain of losing him. She also isolates herself rather than expressing hurt, retreating to the bathroom to text Jack instead of telling her brother she feels abandoned.

2. What role does Jack’s own history of parental rejection play in the theme?
   Jack grew up with a narcissistic father who gaslighted him and claimed credit for his achievements. His own wounds make him initially secretive about his writing and prone to issuing ultimatums when he fears rejection. Mabel’s intervention helps him recognize that Emily’s fear mirrors his own, and his decision to go slow—rather than retreat—models the healing he himself needs.

3. How does the revelation about Liam complicate the theme?
   Liam’s betrayal adds a layer of shame and romantic rejection to Emily’s existing grief over her parents. She had twisted the story to blame herself for being left behind, when in reality he explicitly chose other people over her. This internalized blame intensifies her belief that she is unworthy of staying for, making the eventual trust of Jack’s commitment an even greater psychological hurdle.

4. Why is Jack selling his motorcycle a turning point for Emily’s fear?
   The motorcycle symbolizes his ability to escape—to ride away when things get hard, much as Emily’s parents left on a trip and never came back. By selling it without her asking, Jack demonstrates that her peace of mind is more important than his possession, and he voluntarily removes a physical object that could trigger her fear. This act of sacrifice allows Emily to finally believe he will stay.

5. In what ways do the Walker siblings help Emily confront her fear, and what does that suggest about healing?
   Madison’s return provides a mirror; Emily encourages her sister to finish her degree and face hard things, which highlights her own hypocrisy in running from love. Noah’s blunt conversation in the pantry forces Emily to voice the Liam trauma she has never spoken aloud. Both siblings refuse to let her retreat, insisting she deserves happiness. The novel suggests that healing from deep-seated fear often requires a community of people willing to speak truth and stay close, not just a romantic partner.