"Does 'hashing it out' include you telling me why you really left in the first place?"
If it wouldn't destroy her to know, I'd tell her everything as fast as I could make my lips move. The truth is acidic and sour,setting a burn to my chest. She takes my silence for what it is. My answer.
"That's what I thought." She turns the doorknob and looks over her shoulder. "You made a bed of lies, and now you get to lie in it."
Chapter 29
Daisy
Peter is Penn.
And I'm a fool.
When he told me, I felt devastation, anger, turmoil. Relief. But more than that, I wanted to throw myself in his arms. Hug him fiercely. Ask him how he truly is, what he's been doing for the past fifteen years. Does he still love heirloom tomatoes, thickly cut and sprinkled with flaky sea salt? What did he think of the new Top Gun movie? Was it as good as the original? He'd loved the first so much. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him I was sorry, so sorry, to hear about his mother. He'd loved her the way a boy loves his mama, with utter devotion. Even through her dark times, he'd protected her with ferocity.
I lie here in this soft bed, staring up at the ceiling, letting the events of last night roll through my mind. The whole night was convoluted. Confusing. Fun, embarrassing, then shocking.
Anything for you.
I roll to my side, my eyes finding the picture of Penn I keep on my shelf. That day he was here helping me, he saw that photo. Picked it up. I told him about my old friend.
The whole time...
He doesn't look like the man I'd envisioned him growing into. My imagination did a poor job, taking thirteen-year-old Penn and making him taller and a little more filled out. The broad shoulders, the height, the strong jaw, my imagination provided none of that. The Penn of my memory had been scrawny, a late bloomer.
I feel like an idiot for not knowing, but maybe on some level I did. Because wasn't he so familiar to me from the very first moment? That was my soul recognizing his.
And Hugo knew.
I reach for my phone, bringing up my last conversation with Hugo, and fire off a text.
You are a dirty liar.
Considering I'm working in the olive grove today, then yes, I will be filthy before the day is out. But how exactly am I a liar?
Here, meet my friend Penn. I mean, uhhh, Peter.
Lie. What a great big pile of LIE.
You would have done the same for my sister.
But I am sorry for lying.
I feel like an idiot.
I know. If it helps, he didn't do it to hurt you.
Right. He was trying not to interrupt my life.
Does it interrupt your life?
Of course not.
Now who's lying?
I'm getting married, HUGO. I don't have time for it to interrupt my life.
I don't think that's how interruptions work, DAISY.
