16. Aaron
16
AARON
“ S he did what?”
“She made this. If you don’t want the food, I can dispose of it,” Jared offered, rocking on his heels.
I never could eat at the Friday night dinners. I always came home feeling slightly nauseated and would crush saltine crackers and scotch and wait for Saturday.
“Why would she do this?”
Jared shrugged. “Eat outside so I don’t have to mop up after you.”
There was a rickety metal table on the terrace with its stone railings overgrown with thorny vines. Jared insisted on lighting a candle. The wax had barely started to pool by the time I’d wolfed down the food.
My body wanted to curl up and sleep, sated for once on a Friday, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t have to deal with another family dinner for a whole seven days. But my brain couldn’t let it go.
She loathed me. Why did Daisy cook for me?
The obvious answer?
She felt sorry for me. That was worse than her hating me.
Daisy was asleep in my bed, sprawled over the painted line on the sheets, limbs sprawled on my side of the bed, her phone in her hand.
The woman was addicted to it.
I yanked it out of her hand then shoved her over off my pillow.
“Did you like your dinner?” she asked sleepily.
“I don’t need your pity,” I said harshly.
“It’s not pity. It’s slightly burnt hash browns.” She was awake now, sitting up, blinking in the dark.
“I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need you to shit-talk my family to your friends—yes, I know that’s what you were doing,” I said to her reddening face in the dark. “Don’t feel guilty. You’re right. I am a monster.”
“That’s not—”
“Don’t do it again.” My words were harsh.
“Whatever.”
I didn’t turn on the light when I went into my study. I didn’t have to be in bed with Daisy yet. Based on my analysis of the contract, the bed-sharing clause applied from midnight to 5 a.m.
I had an hour before I had to endure her. And that cat.
My pacing paused in front of a bookcase. I rested my hand on the panel that would reveal a hidden lock and lever.
Then I let go.
I shouldn’t do it. The day had already fucked me up, destabilized me. Shouldn’t go down there at all until I was rid of Daisy.
I craved the familiarity.
And I also recognized that it was the most outward sign that I was absolutely not okay.