Chapter 23 Closure #2
He leaned forward, gathering up the scattered cards. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let your kids gang-tackle you in the pool today.”
“They did gang-tackle me,” she said, eyes half-closed, her speech slower now. “That’s why I have a bruise shaped like Lillie’s elbow on my thigh. Worth it, though.”
Dylan smiled, soft and real. These nights didn’t happen often. Not anymore. And even with the haze of beer and sibling banter, he felt that weight in his chest— the quiet kind. The kind that came with growing up and apart and only sometimes finding your way back.
Daisy blinked slowly, then rubbed her face. “I’m drunk.”
“Yup.”
She laughed. “I’m gonna go crawl into bed with my very hot, very sober wife now.”
“Good plan,” he said, grabbing two bottles from the table and standing. “I’ll clean up down here. Crash on the couch.”
Her eyes opened fully. “You’re not driving back to your hotel?”
He shook his head. “Too buzzed.”
She nodded, serious for a second. “I’m glad.” She stood, wobbled, and leaned in to hug him, her chin pressing against his shoulder. “Love you, Dyl.”
He hugged her back tightly. “Love you too, Daze.”
Then she was gone, stumbling up the stairs toward her old bedroom where her wife was already asleep. Her kids asleep in his old room.
Dylan stared at the quiet room for a long moment. The soft clink of bottles in his hands filled the silence as he walked them to the kitchen. He rinsed them out, set them in the bin under the sink, then came back and turned off the TV.
The house felt different at night.
Softer. Older.
He sank into the couch, kicked off his shoes, and laid back against the cushions with a sigh.
His phone lit up beside him— just a notification from a sports app.
But for a split second, his heart jumped, thinking it might be her.
Ali.
Her name alone made something thrum low in his chest.
He turned off the lamp, darkness settling around him. But even with his eyes closed, sleep wouldn’t come right away.
Not when her voice was still in his head.
Not when his whole body still remembered the words she’d sent.
And not when his heart— after all this time— was finally starting to believe they might get it right
Dylan had just started to drift. Body heavy. Mind fighting off memory.
But something made him open his eyes.
Then he saw her.
Sitting on the loveseat, knees pulled to her chest, face streaked with tears.
“Daisy,” he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “What's wrong?”
She flinched. “I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t sleep.”
“Clearly.”
She stared at him, glassy-eyed. “Do you ever think about her?”
He sat up fast. “Don’t.”
“I need to say it.”
“We had a deal.”
“I lied.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve been lying since college.”
He stood, shaking his head. “Nope. Not tonight.”
But she surged forward, grabbing his wrist. “Dylan, please.”
He tried to pull away. She held tight.
“Please.”
He stopped.
Furious. Exhausted.
And maybe a little scared.
Daisy looked up at him with a face so full of shame he almost didn’t recognize it. “I wasn’t just mean to Ali because I was a bitchy little sister.”
“Don’t,” he warned, voice hard.
She ignored it. “I was half in love with her.”
He froze.
“I didn’t realize it at first. Not fully. I just knew that she made me feel… seen. And safe. And warm in a way no one ever had. I wanted to be around her all the time. I wanted her to pick me first. But then she didn’t.”
Her voice cracked, trembling.
“She picked you.”
Dylan didn’t breathe.
“She picked you,” Daisy repeated. “My fucking brother. Everyone picked you! Ali was mine! She was my best friend. She was supposed to be mine! And god, I hated her for it. I hated that she was happy with you. I hated that she smiled at you differently. I hated that she never looked at me that way.”
“She didn't choose me to spite you Daisy.”
“I know,” she said. “But it still hurt like hell. And we lived in freaking South Georgia, Dyl. What was I supposed to do? Admit to the whole damn world that I might like girls— when I hadn’t even admitted it to myself?”
Silence.
“I wasn’t ready,” she whispered. “So I turned it into hate. And jealousy. And sarcasm. I was spiteful and cruel, and I didn’t know how to stop. And by the time I realized how far I’d gone, it was already too late.”
He didn’t look at her.
“But you know what kills me?” she said. “It wasn’t even real love. Not like what I have with Laila. That’s real. That’s forever. What I had for Ali was just a crush. A stupid, painful, first-love kind of crush. And I let it destroy everything.”
Still, Dylan didn’t move.
“I just wanted you to know the truth. Finally.”
He stayed frozen a beat longer, then muttered, “You don’t get points for honesty now.”
“I’m not trying to earn points, Dylan.”
“Well, congratulations,” he said, voice sharp. “You already did the damage. You got what you wanted.”
“No, I didn’t,” she snapped. “You think I wanted to lose her too?”
“You never had her.”
“I know that!” she yelled. “And then you didn't. Because of me!”
He flinched like she’d slapped him.
“I ruined it,” Daisy said, breathing hard. “I know that. I live with that. Every day.”
“I told you not to bring her up,” he growled, eyes suddenly hot. “I warned you after Mimi died. I said if you wanted me in your life, you don’t ever say her name again.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I need you to forgive me.”
He laughed bitterly. “It’s not about me forgiving you.”
“Then what is it about?”
“She tried to kill herself, Daisy.”
The words slipped out like they’d been waiting years.
Daisy stopped breathing. “What?”
Dylan’s jaw locked. “Shit.”
“No. No, what did you just say?” She stepped toward him, voice trembling. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Dylan.” Her eyes went wide.
He turned his back, hands on his hips, heart hammering.
“You knew she was in the hospital,” he said tightly.
“No…” she whispered.
“It wasn’t the flu. Or exhaustion. Or an eating disorder like you all gossiped about. It was a fucking bottle of anxiety pills.”
Her knees buckled and she gripped the edge of the loveseat.
“I didn’t know,” she said, choking on the words. “I swear, Dylan. I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.”
He didn’t look at her.
Didn’t want to see her face.
Didn’t want to see the mirror of his own guilt reflecting back at him.
“I— I thought she just… went home,” Daisy whispered, her voice cracking. “She never told me. You never told me.”
“She almost died, Daisy.”
“I didn’t mean for—”
“She almost died,” he said again, louder this time. “And I was there. Holding her hand. Not even knowing if she wanted me there. You weren’t. No one was. Just me.”
Silence settled heavy and thick.
Daisy didn’t cry this time. She didn’t speak.
She just sank into the loveseat, eyes vacant.
Dylan stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, breathing hard.
Dylan was livid and exhausted at the same time. “Go to bed Daisy. We’re done here.”
He felt wrecked all over again.
And the worst part?
Ali still didn’t know the truth.
Not about Daisy.
He didn’t know if he wanted her to. He didn’t want her to feel guilty. He knew how her mind worked.