Daisy belongs with Penn. And she deserves to know that's who she's making love with. Selfishly, I don't want Peter to have her. She's mine, and she always was. I may have left her, but she never left me. True love. Daisy might not believe it anymore, but the more time I spend around her, the more I understand very, very clearly that true love does exist.
The first step in restoring her belief in it, is for me to tell her who I really am.
So I take her hand, tugging lightly to make sure I have her attention. Gazes locked, I say, "Sunshine, there's something I need to tell you."
A blush blooms over Daisy's cheeks. "If it has anything to do with last night, I don't want to hear about it."
My heart pinches. "I've done a lot of hard things, but none of them compare to the strength it took to let you go last night."
Daisy blinks up at me, eyes searching mine. "Then, why? Is it Duke?"
"No, but at some point I'm going to need to hear more about thisagreement." I can't help the way I say it, the disdain that accompanies the word.
"Then,why?" She stresses the word.
I take a deep breath. This is it. Looking back, I should have done this that first night at Summerhill, been honest from day one. Once the lie was established, hooks set, it grew, became a living, breathing thing.
Taking her hand, skin so soft in mine, I press it to my chest and clutch it with both hands. "It's me, Penn."
The muscles in Daisy's face go slack. She blinks four times in rapid succession. "Penn?" A disbelieving whisper. Immediately followed by a wobbling of her chin. Her eyes find my tattoo.Daisies for Daisy.
I nod, watching every emotion in her eyes, every micro movement of her face. She's grappling with what I've said, reversing back into her memory and looking for missed clues.
"Penn," she whispers again, her free hand reaching out for my face, faltering. I gaze in earnest back at her, and her shaky touch lands tentatively on my cheek. Her fingertips graze my cheek, sweep over my jaw. Her lower lip quivers.
Devastation forms in her eyes. Tears gather, breaking free and tumbling down her face. It rips me in half to see her crying, and the compulsion to hold her overwhelms me, but I want herto have this moment. Need her to feel what comes naturally to her.
Her hand drops away from my face, and I feel the loss like a torn limb. Her touch belongs on me.
Teary eyes dart over my face. "H-how?"
"I'm sorry, so sorry.” My thumb rubs over the top of her hand I still have pressed to my chest. "I want you to know that."
"For what?" she asks, her tone hardening, growing claws. "Tricking me this time, or tricking me last time?"
"For everything," I answer, "but I didn't trick you when we were kids, Daisy."
"You had to have, because friends don't abandon each other the way you abandoned me." Hurt rises in her eyes, a tide, a swell that could drown me. This woman has no idea what she does to me. To my heart.
A heavy sigh heaves my chest. "You don't know what was going on at the time."
"Right," she nods, yanking her hand away. "Because you didn't confide in me."
She's right. I didn't. Because I couldn't. How do you tell someone their father paid you to leave town, even arranged a place for you to live? How do you tell them that despite it being something you're ashamed of, it's also probably what saved your life?
The day is burned into my memory. Daisy's dad showing up unannounced, my embarrassment at the state of our home. The way he stood across from my mom, helping her understand how much trouble I was in. Revealing a path to health for her, and a better way for me.It's best for everyone, he'd said, shoulders hunched as if he carried a heavy weight.
I can't tell Daisy the truth about her dad, not when she's preparing to lose her mom. He's all she'll have left.
"Daisy, I?—"
"No," she shouts, standing up. The blanket thing she wears swallows her frame. "You let me ask questions about you. You let me wonder howPennwas doing. You danced around questions of him." Her eyes are ablaze, and I'm pretty happy there isn't a door stop anywhere near by, because I'm certain it would be sailing at my head right now. "You told me"—her voice breaks, words dying off into a whisper—"he never mentioned me." Her arms wrap around herself, like she's seeking comfort. It fucking kills me to know I'm the reason for her pain.
"Why are you really here?" she asks, voice hoarse.
"I came back to deal with my house."
"Because of your mom?" she asks, momentarily softening. "Or was that a lie, too?"
