Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Jameson pressed his palms against his eyes for a second, then dropped them. “You went through all of that… alone.”
She slowly nodded.
“So that’s where Amelia was born?” he asked more softly.
“Yep. Right in the middle of my dormitory.”
His brows shot up, startled.
“I’m kidding. No dorms for this girl.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. “My parents were generous. They rented me a small two-bedroom in the Village.”
“That is generous.” He ran a hand through his hair, voice rough. “They were supportive. I should thank them for that.”
“Financially, yes. But emotionally…” Daisy hesitated, searching for words. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I would’ve traded all of it for their emotional support.”
Jameson leaned closer. “What do you mean?”
She inched toward the middle of the bed, voice quieter now. “My mom tried. She came to appointments, visited often. But my dad…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He didn’t speak to me until after Amelia was born.”
“Seriously?” Jameson’s jaw slackened, his voice breaking. “Why not?”
“He didn’t know how to process it. No one did. But he took it the hardest.”
He cursed under his breath, anger aimed at no one in particular, before muttering, “You deserved so much better than that.”
“It’s okay. Sean was great; he always called and checked on me. And Anna, once she found out, practically lived on trains and buses from Georgetown every weekend just to see me.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad you had them. At least you weren’t completely on your own.” Then, quieter: “If it’s worth anything, it seems like your dad’s in a better place now.”
“Yes. Our relationship will never be the same, but once Amelia was born, he came around. He still feels terrible about the way he treated me… but he adores her. I couldn’t ask for a better grandpa for my daughter.”
Jameson reached for her hand, squeezing it once before letting go.
“You’re a strong woman, Daisy Daniels. Stronger than I ever knew.
I hate that I wasn’t there. I wish I had been.
” His voice roughened, regret thick in it.
“I was so caught up chasing music, convincing myself nothing could come before it. I see now what that cost you… what it cost us. I’m sorry. ”
Daisy exhaled, “I’m sorry, too. And… thank you. In the end, it was okay. I have an amazing daughter, and I’m living my dream.”
“How did it happen?” he asked. “You’ve always been insanely talented, but I’ve heard breaking into the art scene is brutal.”
“Especially for a student who was also a full-time mom.” She smiled faintly. “I kind of have you to thank for it, actually.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“My inspiration. My muse. My… toxic source,” she said, not unkindly.
He frowned, and Daisy went on. “I worked the desk at Aunt Devya’s gallery in New York—good exposure, but zero clout.
Devya loved me, but she made it clear I had to earn my own wall.
After years of begging, she finally agreed to hang one piece.
I don’t know why I picked the one I did.
There were safer choices. But I was desperate to get rid of it, so I chose to let the world take it from me. ”
“What piece?”
“The Band Boy.”
She told him how the critic, Laura Damoyer, fell in love with it and wrote the review that started everything.
“I guess… you’re welcome?” he joked weakly.
“I almost threw it away,” she admitted. “I hated how much it hurt to look at. But now, sitting here with you, with Amelia downstairs, I’d give anything to have it back. Just because something comes from pain doesn’t make it worthless. If anything, that painting proved how strong I was.”
For a moment, he was quiet. She could tell he wasn’t moved because the painting was about him, but because she was offering something like forgiveness and a way forward.
“If you’re wondering,” she added, voice low, “it wasn’t a portrait. It was a silhouette—stage lights like a halo from behind, cords pooling at your feet like roots. I painted the crowd as smudges and left a single red mark in the corner, the mark of an original.”
“I wish I could’ve seen it.”
They shared a look. It was both reluctant and fragile.
Then Margot’s voice carried up the stairs. “Five minutes until dinner!”
“Next time it’s your turn,” Daisy warned softly. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.”
“I’m just glad there’ll be a next time, darlin’.”
Her cheeks flamed as she rose from the bed.
“Is that a bathroom?” she asked quickly, pointing toward the closed door.
He nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She slipped into the restroom, closing the door behind her. Alone at last, Daisy splashed cold water over her flushed face, willing her heartbeat to slow. This was good; it was progress. Now she had to gather herself for the real test… sitting through an entire meal with Margot.
Boisterous laughter.
That was all Daisy heard as she descended the staircase. It was far more than the three voices she’d expected. Her hands began to tremble as she inched toward the dining room.
When she rounded the corner, the air left her lungs in one rush. She froze, gaping at the crowd gathered around Margot’s dinner table. Every face was familiar, every single one except for the redhead at the far end.
The chatter died the moment they saw her.
“Hi,” Daisy whispered.
Lenny, Kyler, and the redhead smiled warmly, easing the tension of the moment. Daisy forced a grin in return and stepped farther inside. On the opposite side, Margot sat flanked by Rebecca and Charlie, both beaming at the sight of her.
Rebecca stood slowly, tears welling as she opened her arms. “Our sweet Daisy girl.”
The embrace nearly undid her. Rebecca’s whisper trembled against her ear: “How beautiful you’ve grown.”
Charlie was right behind her, his voice low and steady. “It’s been far too long, love. How have you been?”
“A long time,” Daisy managed. “I’ve been… well.”
Rebecca clasped her hands. “What a surprise to find you and your sweet child here. What a gift.”
Daisy’s voice came out quieter, almost to herself. “That makes two of us.”
Rebecca touched her arm gently. “Come on. Jameson saved you a seat.”
Daisy walked toward him, but her eyes searched for Amelia.
She found her tucked between Lenny and Margot, hysterical with laughter at whatever story Lenny was spinning.
The sight both warmed and weighed on Daisy’s heart.
In another life, she thought, this could have been our normal, us at this table every Friday night.
“So how’ve you been, Daisy? You still look mighty fine,” Kyler teased, earning a thump to the ribs from the redhead beside him.
“Ow! What? She was like a sister,” he whined.
“And still your girlfriend doesn’t like it,” the redhead scolded. Then, with a kind smile: “I’m Riley, by the way. Girlfriend to this idiot.”
“Nice to meet you, Riley. And nice to see you, Kyler,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes.
Kyler waggled his brows until Riley swatted him again. “So,” she asked, “how do you know this crew?”
Daisy’s palms dampened. Unease prickled at her skin. She opened her mouth to offer some vague answer, but Amelia piped up first.
“She and Jameson were boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Heat surged up Daisy’s neck. She forced a smile at her daughter. “Yes. A long time ago. I grew up with the guys.”
“She’s the reason for our crazy success,” Kyler jumped in.
“I don’t know about that—”
“Are you kidding? Half of the third album is about you. That album catapulted us.”
Lenny tried to nudge him quietly.
“Sorry,” she said stiffly. “I haven’t heard it.”
Kyler’s jaw dropped. “What? Everyone on the planet has heard that album. Where’ve you been—living under a rock?”
Daisy’s gaze flicked to Amelia, whose small ears were straining toward every word. Her reply was barely above a murmur. “I’ve had other priorities.”
Kyler started again, “Sorry, I just mean that album was like a love letter to yo—”
“Dude.” Lenny cut him off, sharper this time. “Stop.”
Kyler threw his hands up. Silence settled.
Finally, Margot stood, smoothing her dress. “Let me get the main dishes. Boys… help. Amelia, my sous chef, you can come along, too.”
All three men rose instantly, Amelia bouncing out of her seat to follow.
Riley leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
Daisy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Listen to that album and you’ll understand. You’re basically a legend. The envy of every girl I know.”
Daisy leaned back, smirking faintly. “I guess I’ll have to listen.”
Dinner was delicious. Margot made pasta Bolognese and homemade garlic bread. By the end, Daisy rested a hand over her full belly.
“Boys,” Margot ordered with a tilt of her chin. “Dishes, please.”
They obeyed without protest. Daisy watched, astonished at how easily they fell into line.
“And bring the pound cake once you’re finished.”
Jameson stacked her plate on his own, flashing her a grin. “Be right back.”
She turned to Margot, laughing. “That is impressive.”
Margot shrugged, eyes soft. “We keep them humble here. Out there, they may have everything handed to them. But at my table, they work for their meal.”
“I like that,” Daisy admitted.
When the cake arrived, Amelia nearly dove face-first into her slice.
“This is amazing, Margot.”
“Thank you. I’m happy you like it.”
“I should be thanking you. Everything was delicious. Thank you for letting us join your family for dinner.”
Margot focused her blue eyes on Daisy and set her fork to the side. “You can join anytime you’d like, dear.”
Kyler piped up, “Yeah! You’re technically family, so you don’t—
“Ouch!” Lenny’s elbow cut him off. “What the hell?”
“Shut it, man!”
“No, you—”
“Boys,” Charlie boomed.
They muttered in unison, “Yes, sir,” eyes on their plates.
The tension that followed was suffocating, everyone too aware of what wasn’t being said. Relief only came when Rebecca cheerily suggested, “Is everyone in for game night next Sunday? It’s been too long.”