"It means everything, Daisy." He turned to leave. "Go back to that house, and while you're there, figure out what life you want."
He exited before I could say more, leaving me feeling defeated. The urge to cry was so strong Idecided to walk home, rather than get Neal to drive me. I returned home just in time for lunch. The staff greeted me warmly, as if I hadn't been gone.
"Hello, Miss. Your lunch guests will be here within the hour. How are you?"
"Good, thank you, Abby," I said, looking around. "How has everything been?" Nothing appeared out of place or dusty. It was like no one had left.
"Oh, fine, dear. I am glad you came home though. Mr. Stanton was getting quite..." She leaned in and whispered. "Annoying."
"Annoying?"
"He's been calling a lot. He said he can't get in touch with you. Have you not been taking his calls?"
I pulled out my cell phone. It seemed to be working just fine, but I hadn't heard from Max at all.
"I just figured he was busy. What has he been saying?"
"Well, he wants to bring Lydia home."
"She's at school." I shook my head. "We agreed?—"
"Yes, but when Mr. Stanton wants something, it doesn't matter what people agreed to. I think we both know that, dear." Her eyes dipped with sadness. "And a child should be raised by parents."
"Why? I wasn't." I turned and started toward my rooms. "I turned out just fine, and so will she."
“You and Mr. Stanton are the only family she has.”
“I—” I snapped my mouth shut and fled the downstairs, afraid that if I stayed I’d say something I shouldn’t. I tried to keep my calm until I got to my room, and the moment the doors shut, I let out a scream of frustration. Lydia returning was the last thing I needed right now. Max knew what he was doing, and despite what he thought, bringing her here wouldn't deter me from leaving.
I stormed to my closet and put on a dress that was moremodest than the ones I had on the other side of the lake. Gatsby had bought me things that were tighter, shorter, more vibrant, and overall made me feel my age. All the clothes I had here, while I'd purchased them myself, aged me up.
Max wanted to be respected and treated like a peer in the business world. He wanted us to act like the men and women in their 40s and 50s, and my wardrobe reflected that. While everything had an expensive label, I'd much rather wear a cheap sundress over an overpriced and uncomfortable cocktail dress. However, the dresses I had here would cover my new tattoos, for which I was grateful. I put on a navy blue dress that framed my body, covering my shoulders and knees.
I looked like a senator's wife, not a prima ballerina.
Having taken the time to calm down, I returned to the ground floor just in time for Max's friends’ wives to pull into the drive. I put on a fake smile and greeted them like we were old schoolyard friends.
We had lunch, where they informed me of all sorts of gossip I had little interest in. They drank too much, ate too little, and laughed loudly at jokes that were more offensive than funny. I had zoned out until I heard my name, and came to attention.
"Hm?" I asked.
"Oh, sweetie, we aren't judging you. All of our husbands have women they think we don't know about." Clarissa, the wife of some tech company, smiled warmly at me.
"I'm sorry, I missed it. What are we talking about?"
"My husband told me Max took his mistress to Texas, but then her husband started to grow suspicious, so he sent her home. Only now she's blowing up his phone at all times of the day, demanding he come home. How delusional." Sheshook her head and laughed. "They always end up forgetting their place."
"Oh," I said softly.
"Really, don't feel weird. My husband's mistress has faked a pregnancy twice now, hoping he'd leave me.” Jada snickered and finished another cocktail. “Jokes on her though, because we have a prenup and Ted got a vasectomy the day we came back from our honeymoon.”
The conversation shifted and eventually they all left, with fake promises to return and do it again sometime. I knew they’d been sent by Max to check on me, but I didn’t really have it in me to care all that much. After they left, I wandered the house, looking at all the decor I'd purchased. At one point in time, my plan was to have this be my home. Now, I just wanted to leave and never return.
The guilt of having built this life with Max, only to drop it the moment Gatsby returned, weighed heavy in my belly. I'd never truly wanted this, but Max pinned me into a corner, and I wasn't sure how to get out.
"Are you leaving again?" Abby found me in the living room, holding a set of drapes.
"Tonight, yes."
