Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daisy
Mom was moved. Her house sale was pending, and preschool had started for Laila. She still went to daycare, and twice a week she’d go to a different room for class. Our weeks were a little more normal. I had picked up Laila and was figuring out what to have for dinner from Alder’s freezer meal stash. I was at the island with a pack of chicken in front of me.
Alder came through the door, loosening his tie. He grinned. “Put that away. I want to take my girls out for a celebratory dinner.”
My stomach did a twirl. I liked chicken, but a meal out sounded way better. “What are we celebrating?”
“Laila’s first day of preschool.” He came to me and bent for a kiss. I met his mouth with mine, but then he deepened the kiss and I gently pushed him back. “Laila’s in the next room.”
“She’s seen me holding your hand for weeks. Since you two came to the tournament.”
And sitting next to each other on the couch. He’d helped tuck her in, and when he wasn’t working late, we’d have meals together. Yet I hadn’t wanted her to see us making out. I never did with her dad, though she might’ve been too young to really notice or remember.
“She’s had a long day.”
He let out a breath. “I know. I don’t mean to rush.” He dropped a kiss into my hair. “It’s getting harder to keep my hands off you. Can I take you both out?”
“Of course.”
He stepped into the living room. “Wanna go out to eat so I can hear about your first day of school?”
“Yeah!” Laila ran through the dining room to the mudroom to put her shoes on.
I shared a grin with Alder. Fifteen minutes later, we were seated in a booth at Rattler’s. Laila was next to me and Alder was across from us.
Laila tore her little pack of crayons open. “And then my teacher said we have to line up every time the fire alarm rings.”
“Is it really loud?” Alder asked.
“I dunno.” Laila pushed the kid’s menu with the tic-tac-toe board to the middle of the table. She rolled the green crayon toward him. “Green is my favorite color.”
My heart spasmed with a little beat of happiness.
“Thank you.” Alder wrote an O on the sheet.
Laila scribbled an X.
“You’re good at this,” Alder said.
She gave him a dubious look. “We’re not done yet.”
He laughed and added another O. I could sit and watch them forever. The relationship blossoming between them wasn’t forced. Alder had let it happen at her own pace, and since Laila could be a lot like me in that regard, my appreciation filled my chest to bursting.
A crack of fear split through it. Alder was doing everything right. He’d proven to me, to himself, that he was a changed man. Crazy A was gone. He was the Alder Duke who had reached his full potential.
But was I doing everything right? He had to see that he was far out of my league. My mouth went dry.
The apprehension grew until my throat got thick. I took a long drink from my ice water.
“I want to play softball,” Laila said.
Surprised, I looked at Alder. His expression must mirror mine.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Looks fun.” She started another round of tic-tac-toe. There were three more ready-made game squares. She put an X in the top right corner.
Alder continued playing with no hesitation. “You can do T-ball next year. I’ll coach.”
“I don’t want to do it if you’re not coaching.” She blinked up at me. “That’s okay, right, Mommy?”
An arrow got me right in the chest. How could I say no? Why would I want to? Yet this whole year I’d been feeling like I never knew what came next. Would I be in the house for a year, or would I have to leave partway through? Would Alder get sick of me and move out, or would he ask me to go? Was I doing right by my daughter?
So many unknowns while the whole time had been passing blissfully by. I’d fallen even more in love with my husband. He had become the guy I knew he could be—better in fact. More ambitious, more caring, and more handsome. He did what he had to because he wanted to be a good person and he wanted to care for and love the people in his life.
I was a lucky woman.
Yet I was still terrified. He’d taken on so many outside obligations. The refinery needed him. The community needed him. Little girls like Laila who didn’t want to be excluded from a game they loved needed him. I was but one single person who needed him.
The teenage server came to take our order, and then I was roped into a few games of tic-tac-toe.
I pushed everything out of my head. There was no reason I shouldn’t enjoy a night out with Alder and Laila. This wasn’t our first, and dammit, I looked forward to each one more than ever.
When my food showed up, it tasted like dust. I smiled and chatted, letting Laila lead the conversation.
After the meal was done, we returned home. Laila was yawning and rubbing her eyes. She got out of the car. “Can Alder read me a story?”
“Sure. I’m going to enjoy the beautiful night. I’ll be inside in a few minutes. You two read some stories.”
Alder shot me a worried look, but I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I needed some air. Some space. I was happier than ever but also more scared than ever, and I couldn’t define why.
I wandered down the driveway. My food sat in my stomach like lead. Why was my anxiety so hard to deal with tonight? Why were things going so well, yet my brain wouldn’t shut off the worry?
The late August breeze that brushed my cheeks was warm with a promise of the cold yet to come. In a few days, it’d be September. Then October. Then November. The year would be up and time would fly by until then. A blink later and I’d have to decide if I stayed married.
Why was it a decision? What made me drag my feet? I loved Alder. I was in love with him.
I reached the edge of the driveway and my heart stuttered. The sun was sinking down in the sky, and the rolling hills around me were no longer the vibrant green of summer. A hint of brown brushed over the grasses.
Just like before.
My breathing came shallow. I’d taken a walk just like this before. I’d come home to an empty apartment with beer bottles falling out of the trash can and dirty dishes piled in the sink. The vacuuming hadn’t been done and the fridge was empty. All the groceries I’d gotten so I didn’t have to worry during the first week of my third year of college were gone, eaten by a bunch of hungover guys who’d slept on my living room floor.
Why were the past and present colliding?
I was doing it. And I was happy. But there was this anvil poised over my heart, waiting to drop.
I blew out a breath and walked back to the house. Inside, Alder’s voice carried through to the mudroom. He was doing the voice of the troll in The Three Billy Goats Gruff .
A smile stretched my lips. Why couldn’t I just relax and enjoy our reconnection? I worried if I sped it up. I fretted over slowing it down. Alder was getting frustrated. He’d never admit to it, but I could tell.
I leaned on the doorframe and listened to him finish up. Laila giggled when he made the sounds of the goats walking across the bridge. Alder looked over at me as he finished, and the corner of his mouth tipped up.
His hair had fallen out of its strict style. I wanted to go over there and push it back into place, if only to get my fingers into his soft locks. I could do it now. Laila might not care. She might say something. She likely wouldn’t be concerned.
But my feet stayed planted. I’d go upstairs when she fell asleep.
“The end.” Alder started to push off the floor, but Laila sat up and wrapped him in a big hug.
“Night, Alder,” she said in a sweet little voice.
“Good night.” He tucked the blankets in around her. “You’ve got another big day tomorrow.”
When he walked past me to leave, his fingers brushed mine.
I gave him a smile, but my gaze darted away. Today was perfect. So damn perfect. My brain had seen this pattern before, and it kept insisting it’d change. My logical side pointed out that we’d been barely of drinking age, though that hadn’t stopped Alder from getting supplied by his older coworkers.
I shook the past off. History wasn’t going to repeat itself. I believed that. So what was it?
I sat with Laila for a few minutes. She had questions about her next day of preschool, which wouldn’t be until next week. When she was fighting to stay awake, I gave her a hug and a kiss.
The shower upstairs was running. I had a few things to get ready for work the next day. I packed my lunch and then went to my bedroom to get my clothes for the morning laid out. Just as I was about to change into pajamas to head upstairs, I sensed Alder at the door.
Heat flushed my body, and I shot him a smile. “I was just going to head up.”
He was wearing gray sweats and a white T-shirt that was snug against his chest, and his feet were bare. The light glistened off his damp, finger-combed hair. My heart somersaulted.
“I was thinking,” he started, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats and dragging them farther down his hips, “that I could stay down here with you.”
“Oh.” Uncertainty cooled off the heat. “Um, I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’m sure Laila’s asleep?—”
“It’s not about Laila. Is it?”
I drew back and crossed my arms. His tone hadn’t been harsh but more like I’d let him down. Like I’d confirmed his worst fears. “What do you mean?”
He held his hands out, and even though my anxiety was climbing, my gaze dropped to admire his chest. “This.” He waved a hand back and forth between us. “The distance you keep here. We’re supposed to be reconnecting. I’m your husband, but I’m starting to feel like a friend with benefits.”
Acid churned in my stomach. “You said you wouldn’t pressure me.”
“I’m not,” he said calmly. “But I need to know—are you in this with me? I’ve been doing everything I can think of to win your trust back, and nothing’s working. What happens in three months? What happens when this house is ours? Am I still going to be sleeping upstairs? Am I still only good enough to fuck when it’s a secret?”
“Alder,” I snapped, hating how the discomfort of this conversation slithered under my skin. He was not a friend with benefits. “It’s not that easy for me. I have more than me to consider.”
“Laila’s doing just fine. Hell, even Jason doesn’t seem to care. It’s you, Daisy. You’re the one I’m worried about who’ll never come around, who’ll never accept me as your husband.”
“What do you want? I remarried you knowing damn well I had never gotten over you. I remarried you knowing how easy it was for you to let me leave like it was just another Wednesday.”
He flinched. “That was a long time ago. I’m here. I’ve changed.”
“Have your priorities?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Your job. The farmer’s market.” I ticked each point off with a finger. “Coaching. Serving on the board.” Those had to be the reasons I had lingering uncertainty. He kept busy, and I was afraid he’d never put me first.
“I would give up any one of those if you asked. Half the time, I don’t even know there might be a conflict because you never talk to me.”
My defensiveness rose. “I learned to live life on my own.”
He threw his hands up. “And you’re convinced you still have to. I’ve given you weeks, Daisy, weeks to talk to me about those credit card bills and you continue to squirrel them away and mention not one damn thing.”
My lungs spasmed, and shame burned through my face. I hoped he hadn’t seen those, and since he hadn’t asked, I’d fooled myself into thinking he hadn’t. “Those are none of your business.”
“I counted four. Four credit card statements.”
Tears poked the backs of my eyes, and I looked away. I should’ve switched to automatic payments long ago, but something about getting those statements in the mail was a painful reminder of how stupid I’d been. Each time I dreaded approaching the mailbox served as a lesson in trusting the wrong person. A tutorial on how I couldn’t be trusted when it came to relationships.
And it was five credit cards. “Those are none of your?—”
“Don’t you dare say it. It was insulting enough the first time.” He ground his teeth so hard they should’ve disintegrated. “Don’t fucking tell me that anything that stresses you is none of my business.”
“You stress me,” I shot back and immediately felt like shit for it.
He stiffened. “So that’s it. You’re never going to trust me. I’m good enough for a good time, but I can’t be let into your life enough to ever help you with the hard times.”
“Since those hard times are because of you, no.” I gasped and pressed my fingers to my lips. I should apologize, but I was too stunned I had said that.
“Jesus.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I fucked it all up and I can’t fix it.” He dropped his hand and let out a long exhale. “I’ll leave as soon as I can arrange another place to stay. You can keep the house, and we can propose a rental agreement with Aunt Linda.”
Panic clawed the inside of my ribs. Leave? Rent? I couldn’t afford this house.
His distraught gaze clashed with mine, and he hesitated, like he was waiting for me to say something. I had no words. All my fears were coalescing into this moment. I waited too long. I didn’t wait long enough. It didn’t matter.
His sigh was long and heavy. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re scared to live life, Daisy, but I am. And despite what you seem to think, I’m worried about that little girl too. I don’t want to hurt her. So I’ll start by working long hours. By the time I find a place, she’ll be used to never seeing me again.”
Would she? Because I had never gotten used to it. “It’s fitting, you know,” I said, my voice hoarse. “It’s the same time of year that I left you.”
Sadness filled his eyes. A dark hopelessness. “I guess it was inevitable, just like you assumed it would be.”
“I did not,” I whispered.
But he only gave me a knowing look and walked out of my room. Forgetting that I could wake Laila, I slammed the door behind him, sank onto the bed, and sobbed.