Chapter 40
40
DAISY
Bryce hates short kisses.
I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s pouted about them, so having her be the one to pull away quickly makes me more unsettled than everyone knowing our secret.
“What’s wrong with you, Johnny?” I ask, a bubbling pit of anger growing inside of me.
He huffs. “What’s wrong with me? What the hell is goin’ on, D? This isn’t you. You’re not a liar.”
“I’m not a liar. And I don’t appreciate you making me out to be one because you’re upset.”
“You lied to all of us. What else do you want me to make you out to be?”
“I didn’t lie to anyone because I thought it would be fun, Johnny. You know that because you know me and the type of person I am. We never set out to hurt anyone, especially you and the moms.”
“What you set out to do doesn’t really matter now.”
I collapse on the couch and reach for the yellow blanket, bringing it to my lap. Twisting the corner of it, I stare up at my brother, the other half of myself, and hate the way he looks back. Like I’ve disappointed him .
“I was the one who suggested the idea to Bryce. She was struggling with her mother, and since I was staying here when she definitely didn’t want a roommate, I offered to play the part of her fake girlfriend as a way of paying her back. The first time we went to Peakside together, we barely knew each other. We didn’t know how to touch one another or how to make a stranger believe us, let alone those closest to us.”
With stiff limbs, Johnny sits beside me. I keep speaking.
“Bryce isn’t who I thought she was months ago. I should have known there was more to her than what I’d previously seen, considering how many of you love her so much, but witnessing it firsthand and having her show me her heart, it was hard not to fall for her.
“The more we got to know each other, the easier it was to see how amazing she is behind the masks she wears. Things happened quickly, and before I knew it, our touches weren’t fake, and neither was the yearning I felt toward her. At the barbecue, I realized that I wanted her to be mine. I didn’t want to only kiss in public or when we felt the need to put on an act. Things stopped being fake after that day, and I think we both were just hoping we could forget that’s how it ever started. It doesn’t matter if we were only pretending before because now, it’s serious. The only person who will be punished for what we chose to do at the beginning of our relationship is Bryce. I’m grateful for the push it gave us because I don’t think we would have been here otherwise, but her mother will never let this go. Even if we only lied to her for a few weeks.”
“Daisy,” my brother says on a sigh. He shifts, opening his posture and stretching an arm along the back of the couch behind me. “Maybe you just got confused in the role you were playing.”
I fist the blanket, glaring at him and his stupid, pitiful frown. “Are you sure you just didn’t think Aurora was so beautiful the first time you saw her that the next time you did, you got confused by your feelings and are actually just attracted to her physically?”
He recoils, jaw pulsing. “Touché.”
“I know myself well enough not to mistake what love feels like. Alluding otherwise when you’ve only been around us a couple of times hurts me.”
Scrubbing his hand down his face, he mutters, “I’m sorry. I just feel blindsided. You’re not just my sister, Daisy, you’re my goddamn twin. If there was anyone who you should have trusted to tell about this, it’s me.”
“I don’t say this to be mean, but I didn’t trust without a doubt that you wouldn’t let it slip to someone. You would have had to keep it a secret from Rory, and I didn’t want to put you in that position.”
“I’m not a town gossiper, Daisy.”
“The only person I told was Kiki. That’s it.”
“And Bryce? Who did she tell?”
I smooth the blanket over my thighs. “Poppy.”
“Did she tell Garrison?” he asks, hurt panging in his voice.
With how close he is with the grumpy billionaire, I can understand where that hurt comes from.
“Not as far as I know. She didn’t tell anyone. Even him.”
He doesn’t appear relieved. “So, Poppy could be trusted not to tell her boyfriend, but I couldn’t be trusted not to tell my girlfriend?”
“Please just stop. You’re allowed to be upset, but I didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose. And honestly, this isn’t even about you. It’s about me and Bryce. And she’s out there taking care of this all on her own because she wanted me here to fix the relationship I have with you. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met, and this is only another example of why.”
Johnny glances away from me and to the mess of my books, pens, and the empty iced tea box on the coffee table that I forgot to throw out. Then, he finds the basket of blankets and the pillows between us on the couch. He touches a fringed edge of the one closest to him with a callused finger and releases a rough exhale.
“You’re really with her now? No more pretendin’?” he asks.
“Yes. Bryce is my girlfriend.”
“You need to tell the moms, then.”
The weight on my chest grows heavier. “I’ve got work this morning, but I’ll head over after. Do you think they’ve already heard?”
He spreads his legs further apart and bends over them, elbows digging into his thighs. The manspreading would annoy me usually, but now’s not the time.
Propping his cheek in his hand, he looks at me. “Yeah. They’ve always known everything hours before everyone else.”
“Are you going to have words with the guy who spread this?”
His grin is wicked. “Yeah, Daisy. I’ll be havin’ words with him. Carved out an entire time slot in my schedule for it.”
“I’m honoured. I know how busy you are.”
It’s only partially a joke. My brother is one of Wade Steele’s most trusted ranch hands. I’ve heard over the years about how much more responsibility he keeps handing Johnny, as if testing him or preparing him for an even bigger role on the ranch.
If there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s my brother. He’s been working on Steele Ranch since he was sixteen and hasn’t ever loved a place or a job more.
“You’re my sister, and I love you to bits,” he declares before dropping his arm to my shoulders and pulling me in for a hug.
“I love you too, J,” I whisper.
He keeps me tucked into his chest until my warning alarm goes off, letting me know I have to leave for work in fifteen minutes.
“Work,” I tell him when he sits back and arches a brow.
“Got it. I’ll go, but let me know if there’s anythin’ I can do to help get this sorted, okay? And please, for the love of God, talk to me more. ”
“Communication goes both ways,” I push but eventually nod. “I’ll call you later.”
We stand, and I walk him to the door. He lingers, and I know he’s got something else he wants to say.
“Out with it, J.”
His lips tip in a tiny smile. “I’ll talk to Bryce. Apologize for blowin’ up on her.”
“I’d appreciate that. And in return, I won’t tell the moms that you walked through our house like a madman with your work boots on.”
He blanches, dropping wide eyes to the dark brown cowboy boots flaked with dried mud. “Shit.”
I laugh and open the door for him, feeling some of the weight lift from where it’s been crushing me.
“We’ll talk later.”
He kisses the top of my head and slips by me out onto the porch. “Have a good day.”
“See you.”
It takes me until my brother hops into his truck and drives off to realize that I called this place our house. Bryce’s and mine.
I smile to myself. Yeah, I think that sounds just right.
brYCE
I scroll through the text messages that have filled my phone since last night and swipe them away without replying.
Anna: Are we okay? Can we talk today?
Darren: Call me so I know you’re okay.
Pops: I’m so sorry Ice. This is all my fault. Call me please.
Johnny: What the fuck are you doing with my sister?
Johnny: I trusted you with her.
There are a shit ton more, especially from Johnny, but I don’t read through them all before removing them from sight.
The collection of voicemails has only come from one set of numbers. My mother’s, and then when she realized I wasn’t answering her calls, my father’s.
Parked on the rounded driveway outside of their house, I listen to the first voicemail and prepare myself for the attack.
“Hello, Bryce. I’ve had something very alarming come to my attention. Something you must explain to me now.”
Beep .
The second is along the same lines as the first. I play the third.
“Enough of this. Answer your phone. Your father and I are so embarrassed. T’as poussé trop loin !”
I don’t bother with the rest of the voicemails. The only thing I’ll accomplish is hurting my own feelings. There’s no point in hearing how terrible of a daughter I am before I even make it inside the house. She’ll only repeat it in my face.
As prepared as I possibly can be, I head inside. There’s nobody to welcome me in. My mother must know I’m here, but she’s going to make this as hard for me as possible, starting with forcing me to search for her.
“Mom?” I call out from in front of the staircase.
“Upstairs,” she snips from the second floor.
I take the steps slower than usual, stalling this meeting without outright leaving. As much as I’d like to walk right back out the front door and never come back, it’s time I grow up and take care of this. If there’s one thing being with Daisy has taught me, it’s that I deserve more than what my mother has offered me. And if holding my tongue and dragging people into my messes just to avoid ruining whatever remains of our relationship is what I have to look forward to with her, it isn’t worth it.
I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to make this decision, but when my first reaction to Johnny’s news was fear as to what my mother will do not only to me but to Daisy . . . that’s a sign as clear as any.
The door to my parents’ bedroom is ajar, so I walk inside without knocking. Mom is sitting at her vanity, swiping a powder puff over her cheekbones. When she notices me, she catches my eyes in the mirror and sets her puff down.
“You did not return my calls,” she snaps, her accent as thick as it was in her voicemails.
“I figured it would be easier to speak with you here.”
Taking a full look at me, she scrunches her face in distaste. “What are you wearing?”
“Pajamas. And I’m not here to discuss my choice of clothing.”
“You should not wear those things outside of the house.”
I take a calming breath. “Is Dad home?”
“ Non . He’s at work. Where you should be.”
“I hate that fucking job, Mom.”
She gasps, her blue eyes flaring wide in alarm. “Don’t be so crass.”
“I’m twenty-eight years old. This is the kind of language I use,” I argue.
“Not in this house.”
“Do you really want to argue about my language right now? I’m telling you that I hate the job you forced me into taking.”
She swipes her hand through the air. “Sometimes we must work jobs we do not enjoy. Until you get married, that will be your job.”
I can’t stop my laugh from dropping between us. “And then what? I get knocked up and raise a rich man’s babies? That’s not fucking happening. Not in this life or any other. ”
“Oh my . Who are you today?”
“I’m me, Mom. This is who I am outside of this prison. I’m crass and blunt and cold. I am everything that you taught me how to be.”
She presses a hand to her throat and shakes her head, staring at me with such disdain. Like she’s staring at a stranger that she can’t believe had the audacity to speak in her presence.
“This is Daisy Mitchell’s influence,” she declares.
I wet my lips, scoffing a dark laugh. “The only thing Daisy has done is offer me more love than I have ever seen from anyone in my entire life. So, yeah, I guess this is her influence. Because of her, I know that I deserve better, and I’m not afraid to shed all of the relationships in my life that have done nothing but drag me down.”
“I am your mother, Bryce. You cannot simply wish away our relationship because I don’t support the decisions you’re making.”
“Yes, I can. And I’m finally ready to do it. You haven’t been here for me for years.”
“The past is not why you’re here. We need to speak about you lying to me about your being in a relationship. I have cancelled dates on your behalf and upset several men who were excited to meet with you because you wanted to play pretend. But that is over, and now, we can go back to what we were doing before,” she says, straightening her spine with a smile.
“No. I’m done with those fucking dates. The only reason I put up with them was so I could avoid this exact conversation. I don’t. Want. To. Date. A. Man. Ever. Not now, and not in five years from now. Daisy Mitchell is my girlfriend.”
She laughs, but it’s a weak, disbelieving sound. “You say that now, but you could always change your mind. And stop it with the lies. I know the truth.”
“The truth is that I was too afraid of you to tell you how I felt and instead pulled Daisy into my mess. But that’s over now. I love Daisy Mitchell, and she is my girlfriend,” I declare, my chin up and shoulders straight.
Mom balks and stands from her chair before striding toward me. I hold the doorframe.
“Do you have any idea how it makes your father look to have the town gossiping about his daughter lying about dating a woman only to be caught? It makes you look desperate and makes us look ridiculous to have believed you.”
“Is the problem here that I was lying about dating a woman or that I didn’t choose to pretend with a man?”
My question shocks us both. I’ve never dug into my mother’s opinion on my sexuality, but she’s never been outwardly upset by it. It was more that she had a preference, and I couldn’t blame her for that any more than she could blame me for not having one in the first place. But now, with all of this drama and the lies and hurt, I don’t know what to think. Maybe I just need to hear her say that she doesn’t care who I love, as long as I’m happy.
Her expression falls, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. I don’t know whether to believe they’re real or expect the worst of her.
“Your sexuality does not define you, Bryce. I have never thought differently.”
“You may have never thought differently, but your actions tell another story.”
“I just want the best for you.”
“I don’t believe you!” I shout, my voice bouncing off the walls.
She falls back onto her chair, as if I’ve shoved her down. “I will not deny that I am old-fashioned. There was a life I imagined for you when you were just a little girl, and I suppose . . . I suppose I have let that poison my mind over the years. You are my Bryce, ma fille , regardless of who you love.”
My throat tightens to the point I feel like I’m breathing through a straw. A swell of emotion rocks into the anger I’ve grappled, threatening to sweep it away.
“You have disregarded what I want for years now. It wasn’t a secret that I had no desire to go on the dates you continued to set up for me,” I say, refusing to back down.
“You created such an elaborate scheme to get me to stop. Is that the truth? I have broken that much of the trust between us?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
“I am the cause of this,” she mumbles to herself, a harsh slap of reality hitting her.
Her sob startles me. I can’t move from my spot in the doorway, and I don’t think she expects me to. As her shoulders curve and she cries, I blink back my own tears, refusing to let them fall.
“I won’t be going back to the town office. This is my formal resignation,” I start. Maybe I’m a terrible daughter, but a few tears will not fix this. And even if they could, I’m not ready to forgive and forget. “I’ve been tattooing the people in town for over a year now, and that’s what I want to do with my life. I’m going to open my own shop one day, and my girlfriend will be there with me when I do it.”
Maybe .
Daisy is my main concern right now, and knowing that there are people in this town talking about her has me livid. I want to protect her from all of this, but at the same time, what if I’m the one she needs to be protected from?
This is all my fault. She should have a say in what we do going forward. If there is any we in the future. How could I blame her for wanting to distance herself so she isn’t bunched in with me anymore?
Who is going to believe us now? Will the judgment continue once we’re seen out together and acting the way we have been for weeks now? The last thing I want is for Daisy to be the subject of a bad joke.
There will be doubt in everybody’s eyes from now on. Her parents included.
“Bryce . . .”
“Can you tell Dad that I want to talk to him?” I interrupt.
“Yes, I can. ”
“Thank you.”
I turn to leave, needing to get the fuck out of this place before I say something stupid. For the first time in over a decade, I might have gotten through to her. I feel like an idiot for not asking her those questions earlier and continuing to pussyfoot around, wasting so many years away being unhappy.
But there’s nothing I can do now. I can’t go back.
Mom clears her throat, and I pause. “I do not know how things got so out of control.”
Me either.
With nothing else to say, I walk out of the room and the house that I’ve dreaded for so long. And this time, I don’t have a clue when I’ll be back.