Chapter Twenty-Seven Daisy
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Daisy
For the first time since starting her job five years ago, it wasn’t Daisy’s alarm that was rousing her from sleep. Instead
in with thoughts of Tom. Hello, stranger. She thought of how her heart had started racing instantly as she recognized the voice and looked up to see his face. She
thought of the joy in being able to talk to him again. And then the ruminating thoughts would begin. The replaying of everything
he’d said as she turned from side to side, counting down the minutes until she had to get up.
Daisy couldn’t quite remember or figure out when everything had turned. One minute she was delighting in their back-and-forth
and the next she was utterly destroyed by him. Her head would whir through memories of their conversation, pulling out sentences
and replaying them on repeat. She’d switch between anger and sadness and something a little more complicated, depending on
which part she thought about.
How dare he imply that she used Zack as an excuse to not go after her dreams?
How dare he say she was holding herself back when he hadn’t been there the last few weeks.
He had no idea what she’d been doing. Except he’d been right, hadn’t he?
She’d just given up on the job and believed Zack when he told her it wasn’t the right time.
Because she trusted Zack and she always had, but there was one sentence of Tom’s that Daisy couldn’t stop hearing.
I’m sure Zack would encourage it too.
On the bus to work a few days after she last saw Tom, she reached into the front pocket of her backpack and there it was,
just where she’d returned it. The card Clara had handed her. The therapist details that Zack had actively discouraged Daisy
from using. Who knew her best? Three people who cared about her, or her fiancé? Daisy went back and forth over that question,
remembering the reasons everyone had given. Clara wanted Daisy to talk about her past and to see whether the therapeutic relationship
she had with Zack was as unique and significant as she believed it to be. Dan wanted Daisy to learn how to be happy and to
find it within herself. Tom wanted Daisy to achieve all her dreams and to find out what was holding her back. And Zack? Zack
said Daisy had him and didn’t need anyone else. If she really thought about it, that wasn’t a reason for her not to go, whereas
the others were all quite valid reasons why she should. The question was, what did she want? That was a question she couldn’t yet answer, and perhaps that was an answer in itself.
Daisy turned the card over and over in her hand, staring down at it as she rode the N73, feeling Tom’s body beside her, his
frustration and insistence pulsating through her, even though today the seat was empty. It couldn’t do any harm just to email
her, could it? Just one session before the wedding. And while Zack might be disappointed that Daisy didn’t confide in him,
he couldn’t be angry. There was nothing to be angry about.
When Carol Dickens replied that same morning with a cancellation slot for 2:00 p.m., Daisy added it to the diary she shared with Zack as a hair trim and worked through her shift with a nervous energy that kept her fingers moving fast across the keyboard until it was time to leave.
Carol led Daisy into a room at the back of her house in Fitzrovia, having greeted her at the door with a warm smile, her graying
hair pulled back in a ponytail. The room had a sofa covered in a cream fleece blanket, with a chest in the middle and tissues
sitting on top of it. Opposite the sofa and chest was a single chair.
Carol directed Daisy to the sofa and took the chair facing her.
“What brings you here, Daisy?” she asked in a gentle tone. The same gentle tone that Zack used to use, and in fact still did
sometimes. That was okay though. Maybe it was part of their training. That was nothing to worry about. Daisy settled into
the softness of the blanket behind her, preparing to talk. It was just one session, and that was all. She could manage that
and then she could tell everyone she’d done it and they could all stop bringing it up. They could leave her to get on with
her life.
Daisy started talking. She told Carol about what she watched her mother go through as a child and the guilt that came with
wishing her dad would leave and then him dying. She spoke about her inability to put herself forward for the job she’d always
wanted. Carol listened, dropping in the odd question. Asking Daisy about her home life and her relationship, her friendships
and how she spent an average day. Daisy tried to be as honest as possible. It was the only chance she was going to get. She
even admitted to Carol how she met Zack, because all of it was important, and if Daisy was going to get to the bottom of who
she was as a person, she had to be honest about who she was now and how she’d come to be that way. Zack wouldn’t be happy
about it, but that wasn’t enough to stop her, because Tom was right. As someone who loved her, Zack should want this for her.
Carol sat with her head tilted slightly to one side, her eyes focused on Daisy the whole time. When she had finally finished
talking, Carol paused, and Daisy could see that she was sifting through everything for what it was that was needed. She was
pulling everything apart to find something that would help.
“Often,” Carol said, warm brown eyes on Daisy’s face. “If a child has witnessed abuse, it can lead to an attachment style
where you avoid anything that draws attention to yourself.” She pressed her hands together and placed them between her knees,
leaning forward. Daisy had heard all this before. She knew what was coming next. All the avoidant stuff. Everything Zack always
said to her. That she needed to stay in her comfort zone. Not stretch herself. That she was afraid of commitment. “Feeling
exposed can leave you feeling very unsafe, so to protect yourself you keep yourself locked away and hidden from anything that
might make you stand out. You pair up with a partner who, by the very nature of his career, feels safe to you. You won’t put
yourself forward for a job because any attention feels dangerous to you.” She paused, saying the next words slowly. “If you
can’t be seen or heard, you can’t be harmed.” Daisy felt her throat closing up as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, sinking
further back into the sofa. My God that was it, wasn’t it? All of it. How had she not seen it before? “That behavior served
you as a child, Daisy,” she continued in a soft voice, her head tilting to one side. “But it doesn’t serve you now.”
Daisy looked up, eyes wide. Carol was going off script. It still served her. That’s what she’d always been told.
“It’s going to be hard and frightening, but if you can find other ways to keep yourself safe while expanding that circle of comfort, everything in your world will be more bright and more brilliant than ever before.
” She widened her eyes, as if to highlight the point.
“Start small, like the hen weekend you mentioned. It can take a little while to outgrow some very ingrained beliefs you have about yourself, but you can begin the changes immediately, and you might be surprised by how quickly you start to feel differently. About everything, but mostly about yourself.”
Daisy stared back at Carol whose eyes were alight, seemingly with enthusiasm for the future that lay ahead for her client.
“Bit by bit, you’ll feel ready for greater exposure. And when you’re ready for that, Daisy, you will live the greatest life
it’s possible to live. I promise there is so much more out there for you if you break through the barriers and free yourself.”
When Zack walked through the front door that evening, Daisy felt her entire body stiffen. She was pulling a home-cooked lasagna
out of the oven, having needed something to keep herself busy. Quite honestly it felt like a total waste of time when you
could buy a really delicious one from the supermarket for less than the ingredients cost, but Zack loved a home-cooked meal
and it somehow seemed to cancel out some of the guilt Daisy was feeling at the thoughts racing through her mind. The knot
in her stomach that twisted tighter with every minute that passed.
“Nice hair,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek.
“Thanks,” Daisy said, turning to press a hand to her chest. She almost couldn’t look at him and that wasn’t fair. He hadn’t
done anything wrong, so why did she feel like he had?
She served up the food and carried the plates over to the table where Zack had already sat down.
“Yum, thank you, sweetheart,” he said, smiling up at her, as she tried to still her hand which was shaking as she lowered
the food in front of him.
“You’re welcome,” she said, her throat dry. “Water,” she added aloud, going to the sink and downing a glass before refilling
it. She placed one in front of Zack and sat opposite him.
Cutting into the lasagna, she watched with satisfaction as the creamy sauce oozed out of the sides. She’d added extra, and for a moment she was mesmerized by the sight of it spilling over and moving slowly toward the edges of her plate in a gloopy stream.
“Uh-oh,” Zack said, cutting into his own food, his eyes on Daisy’s face. She looked up.
“What?”
“I thought this might happen, the closer we got to the wedding.” He circled his fork, pointing it at her face.
“What’s happened?” she asked, licking her top lip.
“You,” he said. “It’s okay.” He dropped his fork onto his plate and reached across, stroking her hand. “You’re going to get
more and more quiet as we count down to the big day. You’re going to feel like running away. I’m just calling it out so you
know that it’s all part of your personality.”
The knot tightened, and Daisy swallowed. “I’m okay.”
“I’m worried about this weekend with Clara,” he said, pushing some lasagna onto his fork. “I don’t know that it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because you never go away.”
“Isn’t that a reason to go?” Daisy asked with a laugh, thinking back to her session earlier that day. About how important these small steps were
for her.
“Perhaps for a normal person,” Zack said, pushing the lasagna into his mouth without so much as murmuring about the white
sauce. Daisy imagined picking the entire slab of it off his plate, turning and throwing it at the wall, right beside Dan’s
potatoes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know its full name, right? Love Avoidant Personality Disorder. It’s like you don’t take it seriously.”
“I just don’t want it to define me and control my life.”
“Babe, with my help it’ll do the opposite. That’s what I’m here for, remember? To guide you through it.”
“Your way.” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Her head was a dizzy mix of Carol’s words and Clara’s concern
and Tom. Tom’s assurance that Zack would want Daisy in therapy if it would help her, when she was starting to wonder if it
might be the opposite. If he had done everything in his power to stop her from hearing any other viewpoint but his.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, surely there are a few different ways to work through it is all I meant?”
Zack squinted at her, still chewing. He leaned back in his chair, breathing in through his nose. “Sure,” he said. “Of course.
Sorry.”
“That’s—”
“I forgot you were an expert on personality disorders. That you studied the human mind for years and had to give it all up
for this.” He signaled his hand between the two of them.
“Six years. Six years I was helping people with this kind of stuff. Do you think I wanted to end up at a hotel?” He grimaced, creamy sauce lining his teeth.
“I loved my job. I was good at my job. And I gave my job up, for you. Because I couldn’t resist you.
That’s why I admitted my feelings for you.
That’s why I kept booking you in. That’s why I
kept assuring you the right man was out there for you.”
A memory appeared, something Daisy had never been brave enough to bring up again. “You actually actively discouraged me from
dating. You asked to see messages from one of them and told me he sounded like he would manipulate me.”
“He did. He spoke with emojis.”
“Everyone speaks with emojis. You asked me to write a letter to my future self about everything I wanted and read it aloud to you in a session.” Suddenly Daisy was scanning back through all her appointments with Zack.
What was it Dan had said? Something about realizing you’re responsible for which version of your life you live.
Had she done that too? Changed her own memories? Lied to herself?
“And haven’t I given you everything you wanted in that letter?” He raised his voice, the tendons in his neck protruding as
he turned red in the face. “I have done everything in my power to make you happy. I have done everything possible to keep you,” he shouted, slamming his fork down on the table. “Keep you safe,” he added quietly, correcting himself as the bang from
the fork rang out across the kitchen.
Daisy shrunk back and away from him, thinking of the very last line of that letter. The last line that fell after wanting
to leave Manchester and create distance from her mum and to get a job she loved—all of which Zack was right about giving her—was
the most important line of all: I want to be happy and free.
“You know what Daisy? Do it. Do it your way,” Zack said, standing up. “It’s the only way you’re going to realize that I know
what I’m talking about. And when it fails . . . When it all comes crashing down around you because you didn’t listen, I’ll
be here, because that is my job, as the man who has chosen to love you.”
He turned and walked away from the table, leaving his half-finished plate behind. Next time she’d buy the fucking supermarket
lasagna.