The room tilted when Preston shut the door behind us, and I had to close my eyes again and press my palm to the wall.
“You okay?”
“Mm hmm.” It wasn’t an answer to anything.
His arm was still wrapped around my waist, a warm comfort. I liked it. He was steady and grounded. Like if I leaned the wrong way, he’d catch me.
I kicked my shoes off and let him lead me down the hallway to my room.
“I don’t love him,” I blurted. “That’s not why we’re getting married. Not anymore.”
Preston stilled. “Jess, I?—”
“I know, I know,” I rushed on, the floor shifting under my feet as I stumbled to my bed and flopped down on top of the covers. “I’m drunk. I don’t know what I’m saying.” I waved my hand in the air before dropping it like a heavy weight on the mattress next to me. I opened one eye to see Preston standing over me, watching. “But I do know,” I said, working hard not to slur my words.
He didn’t say anything. He just watched me as if I were about to break.
That felt worse somehow.
I attempted to prop myself up on one elbow. “You’re easier,” I said. “Did you know that?”
His jaw tightened. “Easier isn’t?—”
“I don’t meaneasy,” I corrected, flopping down again, the weight of holding myself up too much. “Just quieter…like I can breathe when I’m with you.”
The words tangled on my tongue in a jumble. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say anymore, only that I felt like Ishouldsay something to him. Like, there was something important I needed to tell him.
“Jess, I?—”
“It’s true,” I stopped him. “Know what else is true?” I didn’t wait for him to reply. “I wish I'd never thrown the flowers away.”
“What flowers are—oh.”
I leaned forward so suddenly that I almost fell out of my bed, but he caught me easily and laid me back against the pillow.
“You should get some sleep, Jess.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I murmured, letting my eyes close. “You know…”
He pulled a blanket up over me, and the edges of the room softened, blurring as I let myself succumb to sleep.
Right before sleep took me, I heard my own voice again. It was distant, as if it didn’t even belong to me. “Daisies are still my favorite.”
Chapter Eleven
Jess
The second I opened my eyes, I regretted it and squeezed them shut again, groaning.
Sunlight streamed through my bedroom window. It was entirely too bright, as if the sun held a personal vendetta against me.
My head pounded as if my brain were actively trying to split into two separate pieces.
The birds in the trees outside were far too enthusiastic for such an early hour, chirping and singing as if I wasn’t only moments away from succumbing to my self-inflicted illness.
For a few minutes, I entertained the idea that death would be preferable to this hungover hell I’d created for myself.
When I finally worked up the energy, I groaned and rolled onto my side, immediately regretting it.
