Chapter 21 Blaze
I sat at the table, stunned. This was not the way that it was supposed to go.
Daisy wasn’t supposed to walk out. She wasn’t supposed to look at me with disappointment.
I guess I deserved the yelling, but she wasn’t supposed to keep me at arm’s length.
She was supposed to see Junior’s tatt and remember us, remember what we created.
She didn’t. She looked and went pale. Then stopped me from holding her, providing comfort.
She didn’t react well when she stepped into the house and saw that I’d kept it as it was for her.
Nothing had changed. All it needed was a quick dust and restocking the fridge, and we were good to go.
She seemed to have a horrified look on her face.
Maybe she was thinking I didn’t care. But obviously, I do.
She didn’t wear jewelry. I never noticed that. What sort of girl didn’t wear jewelry? Her mother always wore jewelry, almost dripping with bling. She rattled as she walked.
I shook my head. It would have been nice to know years ago. I could have saved some money.
But if she didn’t wear jewelry, what did she like?
What did she want from me? Flowers didn’t seem a hit either, judging by all the bunches from the birth.
She barely looked at them. Or maybe she did, I can’t remember.
It was a difficult week. I still remember that little boy sitting in one of my hands, the feeling of that little weight, the small face that I could already tell had my features.
I didn’t like to think about it too much.
I felt helpless, like a failure then, and for the week after. I’m not a failure.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and turned my thoughts back to Daisy.
This was my current problem. She was my girl.
Everyone knew that, we just needed to get through this bump, and back on track.
We had the perfect opportunity to reconcile and it didn’t work out.
She didn’t sound like she wanted to be with me anymore.
That wasn’t possible. I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
How could anyone pass this up? No one else did, only her.
My brain flickered. Could she be jealous of the other girls?
Nah, Matchstick told me that jewelry always fixed the jealousy.
Although she did go on about cheating. But I didn’t cheat.
I never slept over, I always came home to sleep.
She was the only one I slept with, and I never spent my money on another woman.
I only ever bought her the jewelry and shit, and she was the only one who sat behind me on the bike.
I picked up the bracelet and put it back in its box. Where did she say she’d put the other jewelry? Something about beside the bed.
I walked to the bedroom and opened her side of the drawers.
There were the rings. All of them, including her wedding ring and the flashy engagement ring.
They were all in a box together. Another box held the necklaces.
They were all just lying on top of each other, not even tangled.
They hadn’t been touched. Bracelets, anklets, everything I’d bought her to say, “sorry for having a bit of fun without you, but this will make it up to you.” They were in a drawer.
It was slowly dawning on me. It wasn’t enough.
She’d never appreciate just jewelry. I had to do more.
Flowers were a bust. I’d have to think of something else to make it up to her.
All I could think of was another baby. Would that work?
Another baby to replace the one we lost. Did she like Dylan?
Would she like a little girl? Maybe that would help.
But it would mean she would have to forgive me first. I was still stuck at the first step.
Maybe a ride. She loved riding. I had to chase her off one of Dad’s bikes that he had lying around. At first, I hadn’t minded; it was kinda hot watching her ride. But then Matchstick told me to keep her in line. She belonged on the back only. I had to shut that down.
I paused, maybe Matchstick was wrong. Maybe I could have let her ride and she could join me. Nah, he hadn’t been wrong about girls yet. Dylan proved it. If I didn’t need to put a legitimate baby in Daisy, I’d do what he did and have a vasectomy. That would prevent accidents.