Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Standing beside her desk, dressed in her most invisible clothes, Daisy clutched the letter longer than she should have. Long enough that the paper began to soften between her fingers.
The paper trembled between her fingers, the words blurring and sharpening again as her breathing refused to steady.
Tears welled along her lashes, but she blinked them back.
Daisy stood just outside King’s office, heart hammering so loud she was sure it would give her away.
Any second now, he might open the door. Might see her standing there, unraveling though she knew he wasn’t behind the door. Daisy had timed it perfectly.
She couldn’t face him. Not after what she thought she’d heard.
The letter itself was neat. Controlled. Almost cold. It was nothing compared to the storm inside her.
I resign.
I am not what you need.
I am clumsy, soft, and too weak for this office.
Please accept my resignation.
Each sentence was a silent confession. Like a flaw finally named.
Daisy folded the paper with careful motions, pressing the crease flat with her thumb, as if flattening the paper might squash the fear inside her chest. Stepping into his empty office, it felt larger without him in it.
Sharper. His desk dominated the space. Clean, precise, untouched.
She placed the letter at its center, aligning it with the edge as if order might make the act less dangerous.
Pulse thundering in her temples, she took a shuddering breath and stepped back. Daisy didn’t look at his chair. Didn’t let herself imagine him reading it.
Turning away felt like tearing something loose inside her, but she forced herself to leave. Each stilted step out of the office felt heavier than the last, as though the building itself resisted her departure.
By the time she reached the elevator once more, her palms were slick with sweat. She strangled the handle of her bag with clammy fingers, though it felt heavier than it should have been. The elevator ride was mercifully empty.
Outside in the chaotic maelstrom of the city, the rain had begun.
She hadn’t even thought of bringing an umbrella, and now it was too late. Fine and cold, it soaked through her shoes within moments, darkening the hem of her long skirt as she walked. Daisy kept her head down, shoulders drawn inward, trying to disappear into the gray of the afternoon.
Every step away from the building felt wrong.
Her chest tightened with each breath, shallow and quick, as thoughts chased each other in frantic loops. Unable to make sense of the situation or her actions. Daisy’s mind flew down one dark turn after another until she was hopelessly lost.
The rain streaked down her face, indistinguishable from tears she refused to acknowledge. She told herself it was fitting. Punishment for hoping, for believing she could belong somewhere she didn’t.
Daisy passed storefronts without seeing them. Shadows pooled on the pavement, stretching long and unfamiliar, and each one seemed to whisper that she was making a mistake.
Still, she kept walking.
She ducked beneath a streetlight, pressing her hands to her face, breathing hard. For one awful moment, Daisy wanted to turn back. To return. To ask, not for forgiveness, but for permission.
The thought frightened her more than leaving.
So she didn’t look back.
She couldn’t.
Her breath came shallow, sharp little pulls that never quite reached her lungs. The city blurred around Daisy. Cars passing too fast, lights reflecting off slick pavement, strangers moving with purpose while she drifted through them like a ghost.
By the time she reached the corner, she was soaked through and shivering, unsure when the tears had started. The reason she’d left felt distant now, hazy at the edges, but the loneliness was sharp and immediate.
I misunderstood everything.
The thought repeated itself, over and over, until it lost shape.
Daisy replayed every moment she could remember. Every look, word, and silence. Twisting them, re-examining them, trying to see where she’d gone wrong.
Maybe the attention hadn’t meant what she thought. That the kindness wasn’t kindness at all.
Had she imagined being special because she wanted to be?
Wrapping her arms around herself, Daisy took another step forward.
Alone, she told herself, was safer.
If her heart ached as she said it, if something deep inside her still pulled toward the man she was running from, she ignored it.
Daisy had already crossed the line.
There was no going back.
She passed a shop window and caught her reflection. Small, soaked, shoulders hunched. The sight made something in her chest twist.
Daisy looked exactly like what she was.
Someone who didn’t belong.
The lock on her apartment door fumbled beneath her fingers before finally giving way, and she slipped inside, pressing her back to the door as if the world might follow her in.
The silence hit her all at once.
Legs buckling, Daisy slid down until she was huddled on the floor, frigid rainwater pooling beneath her. She stared at the opposite wall, blank and unmoving, as the adrenaline drained from her system to leave her hollow and wretched.
The quiet felt wrong.
Her phone sat untouched in her bag. Daisy didn’t bother to check it. She didn’t want to know if there was a message waiting. Worse, if there wasn’t.
After a long while, she forced herself up and changed into dry clothes. Found comfort in the oversized sweats. The routine steadied her hands a little. Simple things. Safe things.
Daisy curled up on her ratty couch, pulling a blanket around her shoulders, though the chill was more the hollow ache spreading through her chest. She told herself she’d done the right thing, that leaving was strength, not weakness. That being alone was better than being mistaken.
As the hours stretched on, doubt crept back in, quiet and persistent.
What if she’d been wrong?
What if she’d misunderstood something that could never be undone?
The thought lodged deep in her soul, painful and sharp.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed her. Sleep came in ragged fits, tangled with dreams she couldn’t quite remember beyond the feeling of being all alone.