“It was in O’Connor Hall, third floor,” she goes on. “Time Travelwas the title, or the theme, or whatever you call it. You were wearing a new suit coat. Navy with this sort of darker trim.”
I feel like I’ve stepped into oncoming traffic. “Y-you were there.”
She nods. “I was there.”
“And you never—why didn’t you ever tell me?” My confusion morphs into something harsher. “Or, I don’t know, you could’ve walked over and said hello.”
“You had a massive group of friends. And they were all standing around you, and you looked so…I’d never seen you that happy and thriving. You had this big, new life, and you didn’t need someone from your hometown inserting themselves into an evening like that.”
“You’re not just someone from my hometown.”
“I shouldn’t have gone.”
Although I have a lot of information to process, she left a gaping hole in this story.
“Why did you come in the first place?” I ask.
“I missed you.” She looks at her feet for a moment as a pinkish tint travels up her neck. “Everything with college and your summer program happened so fast, and I kept thinking about prom night with you, and I kind of realized that my feelings for you were more than a friend thing. So I thought maybe I’d go to Dublin and tell you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, not sure how to feel. Thrilled that she ever felt that way and baffled that she bothered with a transatlantic flight only to never approach me.
And even more confused, because I know what she did next.
“That text.” I look her square in the eyes. “Why would you send that?”
“I would have been a distraction.”
“All you’ve ever done is distract me, Daisy. I don’t mind.”
“I would have, though, with your life starting in Dublin. You worked too hard, and you’re too great to—”
“Don’t pull the martyr card here.” I can’t buy her story—it doesn’t add up. “What were you thinking?”
“I hated not telling you. Not being brave enough.” She shakes her head, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. “But if I had, what would you have done?”
“I’m not sure. Anything. Everything.”
“Exactly. You belonged in Dublin, giving your all to your classes and your friends and your life there. Not dividing your attention even more.”
If Daisy had walked up to me that night and told me how she felt, who knows how I would have reacted. I wouldn’t have dropped out of school, but would I have neglected schoolworkand social outings in favor of phone calls with her? Sure. And how would that have affected all other parts of my life?
I shake my head free of the millions of paths our lives could have taken. “You didn’t have the right to make that choice for me.”
She looks up, abashed, like a dog whose tail knocked over a vase. “Still love me now?”
She asks not like it’s a dare, but like she already knows the answer and just wants me to let her down gently. But loving Daisy isn’t something I can turn off. As long as I’m alive and breathing, there’s a built-in shrine in my heart for her and whatever pieces of her she’ll give me.
I rest my forehead against hers. “I was going to tell you I’m staying, if that’s any way to answer your question.”
Daisy blinks. Her jaw slackens and her lips part, but she says nothing.
“I’ve thought a lot about it. Regina wants to take me on for the next semester at the school. LA isn’t far, so I could land some short-term work out there. And if the pop-up’s a hit, we could consider making it a regular thing.” Where before I only saw limitations, now I imagine all the possibilities here. Daisy’s about to say something, but I cut her off. “And you don’t get to tell me I can’t, because we’ve seen what happens when you decide for the two of us.” This is my decision, not hers.
I watch as her eyes fill with tears. Maybe it’s having grown up watching all the pain her mom went through, married to her dad, but I can tell something’s holding her back. Enclosing Daisy’s wrists in my hands, I trace infinity symbols over the veins and tendons with my thumbs.
“But what if you hate it here?” she asks.
“I couldn’t. You’re here.”
