“Yes.”
“I suppose that makes more logical sense.”
I shift to look at her again.
Her eyes crinkle in the corners as she smiles at me, and I swear the fairies tattooed on her arms are smiling at me too. “Yeah, I guessed as much. Wanna tell me why though?”
My fingers curl into fists again, and once more, I force them to relax. “Because I hate my life, and I don’t owe anyone anything anymore. By all outward appearances, I saved the goddamn company. I did my part. It’s my turn to do something for me.”
A shadow drifts over the car.
Or possibly that’s me picking up on whatever Daphne’s feeling about my plans.
It’s so silent in here that I can hear her swallow.
“You did an amazing job.” Her voice is oddly thick. “You deserve to find what’ll make you happy.”
That’s not what she wants to say.
That’s not atallwhat she wants to say.
I slide another look at her.
She squeezes her eyes shut and looks away.
“What?” I say, and then I understand.
I understand all too well.
Fuck me.
Fuck. Me.
I scrub a hand over my face. “You want me to go back for Margot. This—this has all been some kind of reverse psychology game.”
“No.”
“Of course. This tracks.”
“Fuck off, Oliver. You don’t deserve Margot. You two were so damnboringtogether. Perfect little heirs to your perfect little family empires doing perfect little things like going boating and picnicking and golfing for dates in your perfect little clothes with your perfect little entourages and your perfect little hair with absolutely no personalities, no real convictions, absolutely no thinking for yourself, andzerosoul to any of it.”
I rear back. “Tell me how you really feel.”
She huffs. “You know what else? Margot didn’t deserve you either. You held each other back. You weresafefor each other. You never fought. Ever. You agreed on everything from your favorite color to your preferred brand of towels to your boring taste in artwork. You both said you wanted the exact same things and you would’ve had two or three perfectly boring children who would’ve needed me in their life to teach them how to scrape their knees and play hide-and-seek and eat ice cream until they puked at least once. Don’t you want tolive, Oliver? Don’t you want to have tofightfor something or someone? Don’t you want to know that the person you’ve chosen for all eternity looked at your flaws and your talents and your fears and your desires and chose you on purpose and wants to be by your side through the ups and downs because they love you beyond all reason?”
My jaw is clenched so tight I want to hit something.
But my heart—my heart is hammering like I’m either three beats from a heart attack or a massive breakthrough.
And I don’t like either option. “Why the ever-loving hell do you think I’m running away?”
She turns in her seat and stares out the window at the store, then sucks in a breath like she hurt her neck again, which she more or less confirms for me when she grabs the hot pack and holds it steady. “Never mind. Ignore me.”
I want to throttle her and rub the ache out of her neck at the same time, and that confounding contradiction has me crankyas hell. “You’re mad at me because I don’t want your sister anymore when you didn’t want me to want your sister?”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
I growl.
