"I'm just making conversation, darling." But Daisy's eyes were fixed on him, the blue suddenly sharp and calculating. "I'm sure Thallos doesn't mind. Do you, Thallos? I mean, you don't have any secrets from my daughter, do you?"
The shift in the air was immediate. Electric. Dangerous.
He removed her hand from his arm gently but firmly. "My relationship with Marigold is exactly what it appears to be."
"Is it?" Daisy's smile didn't waver, but something in her eyes hardened. "You don't have any… hidden complications? No exes lurking in the shadows? No financial difficulties? I only ask because Marigold has always had such terrible luck with men. I would hate to see her hurt again."
"Again?" The word came out sharper than he intended. "What do you mean, again?"
"Oh, you didn't know." Daisy pressed a hand to her heart in mock sympathy. "Poor thing, always falling for the wrong men. That boy in high school—what was his name, darling? The one who took your virginity and then told everyone in school?"
Marigold made a sound of protest, but her mother plowed on.
"And then there was that college boyfriend—Simon, wasn't it? Stole her credit card and ran up thousands in debt. It took me months to sort that mess out."
"That's enough, Mom." Marigold's voice was shaking. "That has nothing to do with?—"
"And of course there was her fiancé. Remember him, sweetie? The one who called off the wedding two weeks before the big day? Broke her heart so badly she swore off men entirely." Daisy looked at Thallos with manufactured concern. "I justdon't want to see that happen again. A girl like Marigold—so sensitive, so trusting—she needs someone stable. Someone with no complications."
The room had gone silent around them. Other diners were pretending not to listen, but the tension was palpable. Marigold was pale, her eyes wide and wounded. This was what her mother had done to her. This casual cruelty disguised as concern. This systematic dismantling of her confidence.
"That's enough."
The words came out low and sharp, cutting through Daisy's monologue like a blade. The table fell silent. Even the ambient noise of the restaurant seemed to dim.
Daisy's smile flickered. "Excuse me?"
"I said that's enough." He set down his napkin deliberately, fighting to keep his voice level. "I've listened to you insult your daughter for the past hour. Her coordination. Her career. Her personality. Her boyfriends, for gods' sake. And she's sat here and taken it because that's what you've trained her to do. But I'm not trained, and I won't sit here while you tear her apart piece by piece."
"I wasn't?—"
"You were." He stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "Marigold is extraordinary. She's built a successful business from nothing. She's earned the respect of this entire town. She's kind and brave and stronger than anyone gives her credit for—especially you."
Daisy's eyes had gone wide and wounded. "I think you're overreacting?—"
"And her dancing is beautiful," he continued, his voice rising. "I know because I've taught her. Because I've watched her learn and grow and push past every limitation she was told she had. She doesn't freeze. She doesn't crumble. She rises. And if you can't see that—if all you can see are her failures instead of her triumphs—then you don't deserve to be here."
The restaurant had gone quiet. Coraline stood frozen by the hostess stand. Pippa had paused mid-step, a tray balanced on her palm. Every eye in the room was fixed on their table.
He didn't care.
"Marigold," he said, gentler now, looking down at her. Her eyes were wide, shocked, something fragile and wondering flickering in their green depths. "You don't have to stay for this. You never have to stay for this."
Then he turned and walked out.
The door swung shut behind him. The evening air hit his face, cool and sweet with the scent of summer flowers. His pulse was pounding, his hands shaking with the aftermath of rage barely contained.
He'd made a scene. In the middle of the Moonlit Spoon. In front of half the town.
He couldn't bring himself to regret it.
CHAPTER 20
The door swung shut behind Thallos with a sound like a gunshot.
Marigold sat frozen at the table, her heart hammering against her ribs. The restaurant had gone eerily silent—dozens of eyes fixed on her, on her mother, on the empty chair where Thallos had been sitting moments before.
*He defended me.*
