"You're right," I tell Hugo. "Of course you are. Voice of reason, and all that." Hugo has always been levelheaded and pragmatic.
"Everything will work out," Hugo reassures. "Peter will be here long enough to tie up loose ends on the Bellamy house, and then he'll be on his way back to San Diego."
And Penn. Back to San Diegowhere Penn lives.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Hugo adds. "I hired an event coordinator last week. She said to ask you about flowers. She said you haven't chosen any yet."
"Daisies," I answer automatically.
"Because of your name," Hugo responds, in a sure tone that is both a question and an answer.
Peter's tattoo flashes in my mind. "Yep," I lie.
We say goodbye and hang up.
So now I know where Penn lives, and his profession. Like a desert pack rat depositing treasure into its midden, I tuck away the details.
I will not obsess.
I will not obsess.
I will not obsess.
Can a person obsess about not obsessing?
Chapter 13
Penn
Hugo:
Tell. Her.
TELL.
HER.
Chapter 14
Penn
My second physicaltherapy appointment is today, and I'm fighting the anticipation that has me hastening my morning routine. It's a dangerous feeling, this anticipation, but it's there, growing and stretching and filling my chest.
Daisy. Again. Daisy everyday since I drove back to this place. I could laugh at the previous version of me, from just last week. The me who thought I wouldn't see her when I was here. The me who was positive I'd hide out, be careful, slipping from proverbial shadow to shadow.
I'm a fool, of course. A fool for putting myself through this, for basking in her glow while knowing she's engaged.
I don't have to go to physical therapy, even though I promised Plato. It can wait until I return to San Diego. Except if I take away these appointments, I take away the times I'm scheduled to see Daisy. And, since I pre-scheduled my next five appointments, wouldn't that be rude? Raise a flag, at the very least? When we're there, our roles are fixed. I'm her patient. That's it.
Daisy, it's me, Penn.
Hugo is pushing hard for me to come clean. It's not that I don't want to, especially when I look in Daisy's eyes, into her open and honest expression. Nothing can change what made me leave Olive Township, which means nothing can change the way I need to protect Daisy from knowing the truth, even now. I need Daisy to think of me fondly when she parses her past. I can't stomach it any other way.
So here I am, doubling down on my resolve. I will scowl my way through my appointment to mask that I pine for her in a way that's absolutely inappropriate when she's someone else's fiancée. Even if that person is Duke The Twat.
Honor among thieves, and all. And it's fucking depressing.
"Hi," Daisy says brightly when I walk in. She's standing at the small front desk area, and instead of exercise clothes like she had on at our first appointment, she's in light blue fitted scrubs. From what I can tell, she was doing a whole lot of nothing when I walked in. No phone, no tablet, no papers shuffling. It's like she was waiting for me. And damn if that doesn't make my chest swell.
