CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE PAST
My dreams had come true.
Oliver loved me. I loved him. And Rowe adored him. Watching them together felt like watching a future I never thought I’d have—a real family, one that felt safe and whole.
The wedding was elegant. Held at a vineyard just outside the city, the ceremony took place under a canopy of white roses and soft golden light.
My satin gown shimmered in the sun, and Oliver looked devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit.
Rowe walked down the aisle with a grin so wide it made everyone laugh. It was perfect.
But June had been distant for weeks.
During the planning, she had grown erratic. Withdrawn. She’d sit quietly while I gushed about flower arrangements or seating charts, her eyes clouded with something I couldn’t name.
“You’ve invited people you never cared about before,” she said one night, her voice low as we folded invitations at the kitchen table. “You’re rushing.”
I looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You’re young, Daisy. You’ve barely lived. You don’t know what you’re giving up.”
I blinked at her, stunned. “I’m not giving anything up. I’m gaining everything.”
She hesitated, then whispered, “You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you.”
I felt anger rise in my chest. “I do know him. He knows me, too.”
“Then can’t he see you’re too young for this? You barely have a hold of your own emotions at the best of times. How will he react when you snap?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“How can you say something like that?” I retorted.
“I’m your sister—”
“And you’ve been against us from the start. Against me. You keep thinking I’m going to ruin everything—”
“It’s not that,” she cut in, exasperated. “It’s that a man like him is refined, experienced—”
“And you still can’t believe he’s in love with me?”
She pursed her lips, nose flaring. “He’s in love with the idea of you.”
Her words were a blow to my chest, dredging up every insecurity and fault I had. I barely spoke to her after that. I was shaking and flustered. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.
Oliver had to calm me down that night when I unloaded what she had said. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead, murmuring, “She’s jealous. You have everything she doesn’t. A man who loves you. A child who adores you. A future.”
I wanted to believe him. I did. I kept thinking of June’s words, trying to understand where she was coming from, but I got too angry, too frustrated.
I resented her. Didn’t want to see her. I knew every time I was around her, she’d bring me down somehow.
And she would do it with that concerned look in her eye, as though she cared.
She didn’t.
Not when she said things like that to me.
Oliver had to be right. She was jealous, and I was letting it ruin important moments in my life. I made a promise to myself that it would stop. I wouldn’t let her views taint me. I wouldn’t let her say another negative word to me again.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. The vows were beautiful. The reception was lavish. As day turned to night, we danced under the stars, and when Oliver twirled me around the patio, I felt like a princess in a movie—the kind who finally gets her happy ending.
But there was a moment later—brief, but unforgettable—when I saw June speaking to Oliver near the edge of the patio. Her arms were crossed, her expression tight. Oliver’s face was unreadable, but he didn’t look happy. Neither did she.
Something was wrong.
What had she done this time?
She’d fled after their conversation. She hadn’t wished me good night. Hadn’t even hugged Rowe goodbye. It made me mad that she did that to her nephew when he’d spent so much of that very day chasing after her.
Later, when I asked Oliver about it, he pulled me aside and whispered, “She told me your true nature would show. That I’d regret marrying you. That you’ve made so many horrible mistakes, they’re bound to surface.”
I felt like the floor dropped beneath me. “She said that?”
He nodded, his jaw clenched. “She’s trying to sabotage this. She’s bitter, Daisy. It’s best you keep her at arm’s length.”
And I did.
I didn’t want my happiness interrupted by June’s despair. Feeling bitter myself, I stopped answering her calls—and she wouldn’t stop trying to call. I stopped inviting her over—and when she came pounding on our door, I never opened up.
I knew what she would do.
She would say something mean about the big house I now lived in. She would remark smarmily about my nice hair and done-up nails. She would make me feel like shit somehow.
I told myself it was for the best.
I lived my dream life. I woke up every morning, reminding myself I was worthy. I was Mrs. Black. Everyone looked at me differently. I was something. No longer the invisible, insecure little girl in constant peril.
Oliver Black had rescued me.
Nothing would take that truth away.
But then, one day, June left me a voicemail.
Her voice was soft. Shaky. She said she’d had a dream. That everything finally made sense, and she knew how to make it right.
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “Everything will be okay.”
I stared at the phone for a long time.
And I didn’t call her back.
The voicemail haunted me.
“I had a dream, Daisy. It all makes sense. I can make this right. I know... I know what I have to do. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
I replayed it twice. Then a third time. Her voice was soft, almost serene. But there was something final in it. It made my stomach twist.
I didn’t call her back.
I told myself it was because I was busy. Because I was newly married. Because I didn’t want to invite her sadness into my joy.
But the truth was, I was afraid.
She might say something else to poison my happiness. I was afraid that Oliver was right—that she was bitter, jealous, and trying to ruin what I had.
I was also afraid she was right. That I would ruin this, and she would have the final laugh.
So, I ignored her.
I told myself I didn’t regret it. That I hadn’t given it another thought.
And then…
Then she was gone.
Two days later, June was found dead in her apartment.
She hadn’t shown up for work, and after hours of unanswered calls, her supervisor requested a welfare check.
The building manager let the police inside.
The police said it appeared she’d ingested something poisonous.
Something homemade. There was no note. No explanation.
Just the voicemail she left on my phone.
Just the dream I would never know about.
Toxicology would later confirm that she’d ingested a poison she had concocted herself.
I collapsed when the police officer delivered the news in person. My knees buckled, and I screamed so loudly Rowe started crying. Oliver held me, but I felt nothing. Just numbness and utter disbelief.
She was my sister.
My fucking sister.
She’d raised me. She’d helped me raise Rowe. She’d been my anchor when I had no one else.
And I’d pushed her away at the end.
I kept thinking about that message. About the way she said, “It’ll be okay.” As if she were comforting me. As if she knew what was coming.
Oh, God.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t forgive myself.
Oliver tried to console me. “She was troubled, Daisy. You did what you had to do.”
But I didn’t believe him.
Because somewhere deep down, I had begun to wonder if June hadn’t been trying to sabotage me at all.
What if she had been trying to save me in some kind of way?
I still didn’t know what it was.
I didn’t try to, either.
I hadn’t listened.
Rocking back and forth, I relived moments from the past. Moments when it was just her and me.
It was late. Rowe had finally fallen asleep after a tantrum that left me drained. I was curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV when June came in from her shift at the daycare. Her hair was pulled back, her face tired, but she still smiled when she saw me.
“You look like you’ve been through war,” she teased gently.
I groaned. “Rowe wanted to build a rocket ship out of cereal boxes. Then he cried because it wouldn’t fly.”
June chuckled and dropped her bag. “He’s got ambition.”
I nodded, rubbing my eyes. “I just wish I could give him more than…”
“More than what?”
I waved my hand around. “This.”
She sat beside me, pulling the blanket over both of us. “You give him everything, Daisy. You give him you.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t think that’s enough anymore.”
June didn’t speak for a moment. Then she said, “You know, when you were little, you used to say you wanted to be an astronaut.”
I laughed softly. “I did?”
“Yeah. After that Magic School Bus space episode, you said you wanted to fly away and join the constellation. You had this thought in your head that the stars were lonely. That you could make them feel happy if they knew they were being watched. If they didn’t feel so alone.”
I turned to her, surprised. “I don’t remember that.”
“I do,” she said with a soft smile. “You were always trying to escape. Even back then.”
I looked away, pulling at the pilling in the blanket. “I guess I still am.”
June reached out and set a hand on my shoulder. Its weight felt soothing. “You don’t have to escape anymore. You’re building something. A life. A future. In time, you’ll get into that nursing program, and you’ll find a place for you and Rowe, and you’ll be the master of your own world.”
I nodded, blinking back tears. “I just wish I didn’t feel so alone.”
“You’re not alone,” she said firmly. “You have Rowe. You have me.”
I smiled, but it felt fragile. “Thanks, June.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Promise me something?”
“What?”
“Don’t let anyone make you feel small.”
I didn’t understand then. I thought she was being protective. I’d been on my own with hardly any friends and no serious dates.
But now, after everything, I wondered if she saw something in me I didn’t. A weakness about myself. A vulnerability that put me at risk.
I wondered if she was trying to warn me.
And I didn’t listen.