Chapter 29
Tanner doesn’t say much the entire car ride home.
After we talked on the walking trail, he’s been quiet, and contemplative. Like there’s so much going on in his mind and he’s having a hard time keeping up. I understand that more than he knows, so I give him the space he needs.
His hand resumes its spot on my thigh, the other resting atop his steering wheel as he focuses on the road ahead, the muscle in his jaw feathering every so often. Although the emotions in the car are thick, a flicker of comfort floods me when I realize how much I enjoy having his hands on me. At first, it was a lot because I’m not used to physical touch, but with him, I like it.
A lot.
While being here with him today was fun, it was a lot for both of us, I think. At least for me, anyway. We didn’t talk much about the conflict with Yasmin because there wasn’t much to say. When I tried probing about it before we decided to come home, Tanner said there wasn’t anything worth talking about that he already hadn’t made clear to both her and me; he wished to pursue something with me that he knew I wasn’t ready for, and that she was a part in his past he was glad to finally be rid of.
But even still, I saw the hurt flashing through his eyes when he realized, and assumed, I wouldn’t be able to fully trust him based on my life experiences. If I’m being honest with myself, it pisses me off, too. Not his assumptions, but the trauma I’ve endured at the hands of others; that the idea of loving somebody else is a near-impossible feat I’m not entirely confident I’ll be able to heal from, which also pisses me off.
I shouldn’t have to suffer because somebody else inflicted pain on me, even if those people are my family. I shouldn’t have to sit and wonder whether I’m worthy enough of being loved, if I’m even capable of being loved, because I’ve been made out to feel less than my entire life. My family—my mom, specifically—broke so many parts of me I can’t get back, and in turn, that makes it hard for me to trust and open up. I’ve given myself to others time and time again in hopes I could find the love I deserved, but maybe before I do that, I need to look inward. Figure out my shit on a deeper level so I can fully heal.
Maybe that’s why Tanner was placed in my life. Not to fix or take care of me, but maybe to show me that I am worthy of having somebody like him—as a friend or more or nothing at all. He’s the only person who keeps coming back, and that doesn’t seem like a coincidence.
I look down at the hand resting on my lap and weave my fingers in between his before shifting my attention to him, fully ignoring the swarm of butterflies in my stomach at our contact. Instead, I take the moment to notice the sharpness in his jaw, the dusty brunette stubble peppering along the bone, before outstretching my other hand to trace his jaw, the wariness already forming in emerald eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that, even if it isn’t my fault directly. I still have a responsibility to change, and I think I’d be okay doing that for him.
He pulls his hand from mine, the loss of his warmth already aching in my bones. I’m about to say something to diffuse a situation I’m not entirely sure exists when he grabs my hand again and presses kisses against each of my fingers absentmindedly, like it’s the only thing capable of grounding him right now. My body softens and my hand tingle as the warmth of his breath runs along my skin.
“I’ve only ever known loneliness,” I admit, breaking the tension slicing through the car. He doesn’t look my way, but his jaw clenches. “I grew up not feeling entirely loved by my family and have strained relationships with my siblings, as you know from earlier.”
He nods, kissing the spot where a ring would be on my finger if I had one. My throat constricts, but I swallow thickly.
“And even though I felt that extreme loneliness, I still wanted to be loved. I wanted my family to look at me, not as a half-black girl who spoke well or achieved good grades but just as me—the artist, the dreamer, the girl who talks too much for her own good, sometimes.”
A smile at that.
“And then as I grew up,” I continue, swallowing down the tight knot of anxiety forming in my throat, “and started becoming friends with people who, in hindsight, weren’t good for me. I think I was searching for friends who reminded me of the love I received from my family, which was chaotic, stressful, and toxic,” I smile sadly, glancing out the window for a beat. “I put myself in situations I shouldn’t by doing that because it allowed people to take advantage of me. I’d share parts of myself and former friends couldn’t be bothered to care about it because it was a moment of vulnerability for me. It meant that they had to look past themselves and recognize that somebody else needed to be heard, too. And the shittiest part about that,” I say quietly. “Is that most of the people that treated me poorly were people I genuinely considered friends.” I shake my head, irritated with myself. “Before I met Gia, I had a decent amount of friends both here and back home. But again, they wanted to be friends with me because I had something to offer, and when I wanted that to be reciprocated, I was labeled as ‘too much’ or ‘too needy.’” I pause, licking my lower lip. “I allowed myself to disrespect boundaries I didn’t realize I should’ve set, and overall, I gave myself to the wrong people.”
At this, Tanner steals a glance at me, pain flashing through his eyes and concern etching its way across his face, but he still remains quiet, like he’s giving me a chance to speak as openly as I need.
“When I made the decision to move to Boston, things didn’t get much better. Not only was I in the process of starting therapy and working through the relationships with my family, but I was realizing that people from back home didn’t want to make the effort. My friends didn’t visit me, not even my best friend growing up. In fact,” I frown. “Everybody I was close to back home pretty much stopped talking to me after I got into the swing of things here.”
“When I moved here for school,” I continue, fighting through the fear that I’m talking too much, “the same patterns happened. I found people who matched that same chaos and comfort I knew back then, and as a result, it fucked me over. I fucked myself over. The last relationship I was in was during college, and he was alright, but he constantly compared me to every white woman around campus. Went as far to compare me to women he’d watch during porn,” I chuckle, the afterthought no longer bothering me like it used to. Tanner, though, clenches his jaw tight and scoffs.
“Yet again,” I continue, “I allowed somebody to treat me poorly. Shortly after, I started at Moore Enterprises. I was newly single, my friends and I were no longer friends, and I was alone. Again. I barely talked to anybody, didn’t leave my office, and avoided people as often as I could. Your dad,” I say, casting a glance at Tanner with a smile on my mouth, “started annoying the hell out of me during lunch one day. No idea where he came from or why he started doing it,” I laugh to myself, shaking my head. “But I realized that he was the first person in my life who didn’t make me feel less than for being different.”
Tanner’s eyes brighten as he finally looks at me, both pride and pain filling behind them. He squeezes my hand in reassurance that he’s still with me.
“And obviously, over time, I became close to Sam, but not by choice, of course,” I tease, which makes Tanner chuckle. “Sam annoyed me at lunch just like your dad, and here we are. I met Gia during a college class, but that’s a story for another day. But the point is,” I say, swallowing thickly as I cast another glance at him. “I can be hard to love, Tanner. I don’t trust easily. I’m difficult and stubborn when you truly get to know me. But,” I blow out a breath. “If you want to be friends—if you want to ask me out on a date,” I wiggle my eyebrows when his head whips towards me. “I will say yes. I can’t promise you it’ll be easy—doing this thing with me, but I’m willing to try. For you, I’ll try.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, so I face forward and press my back against the seat. I just dumped a ton of information onto him, and I don’t expect him to know what to say. Maybe he’s contemplating whether or not this is something he can do with me, something he wants, but either way, I’ll give him the space. He can take all of the time he needs, because when I’ve needed space, he’s given me that opportunity.
“Easy’s never been my style,” his deep voice breaks through the silence, and I almost sigh in relief but he continues. “I’d prefer to love somebody who has seen the worst things life can offer and can still show up every day and try to be better than their circumstances. It’s what I admire about you, Daisy. You’ve gone through shit most wouldn’t make it out alive from, and I’m sure I don’t know the half of it.”
I nod, my nose burning as I fight back unexpected tears.
“But,” he continues, shifting his gaze to look at me, his face softening. “If you want to try figuring out whatever this thing is,” he gestures between us with the hand still linked with mine. “Then I’ll try, too. I just ask that instead of putting those walls up when you’re starting to feel things, you talk to me. Tell me what’s going on because I can’t fix something I don’t know. I can’t, and won’t go through another relationship without communication.”
I nod, feeling somewhat lighter, hopeful. “That’s a fair compromise.”
He glances at me again, those emerald green eyes filled with so much hope. Enough so, that I find myself smiling at him.
“So, we’re doing this?”
“We’re doing this,” I agree.
The smile that appears on his face would’ve brought me to my knees had I not been sitting down, but he only kisses my fingers again before resting our hands on the tops of my thighs.