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More crazy cheers, and Daff passed shot glasses around but warned them, “Don’t give any to Daisy, not until later! We want her to be conscious for most of the evening!”
“Hey!” Daisy protested good-naturedly but happily passed on the first shots of the evening.
Daff sent a tacky veil and silk sash that read “Mason’s Bride” to the back of the bus, and a couple of the ladies decked Daisy out in her hen finery. She also handed out other specially commissioned party favors—hats, glasses, and T-shirts, all pink and sparkly, with “Daisy’s Hens” printed somewhere on them.
She smiled while everybody giggled and oohed and ahhed over the selection, but her eyes drifted to the minibus behind theirs. She hadn’t seen Spencer that day, but she knew he was back there. She wondered how he was doing. He wasn’t great at public speaking, and she knew hosting something like this was going to be hard for him. She was tempted to text him to find out how it was going. But she knew better.
She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry every time she thought about his words to her that last time. He loved her and she’d broken his heart, and it killed her to know that. He didn’t deserve to have his heart broken—he deserved to be loved back, completely and without reservation. But Daff didn’t know how to do that. All she knew was that not having him around, never having him around again, hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced before. She didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t know how to give him what he wanted.
Everybody was starting to get into the swing of things and, job done for now, Daff sat down and faced forward, taking out her phone and blindly staring at the bright screen. Hoping everybody would think she was making last-minute arrangements. Someone sat down next to her, and she plastered a bright smile on her face and looked up to see Lia. Her sister was staring at her with grave eyes, so Daff widened her smile, even though her cheeks were aching.
“Hey, Lia, everything okay?”
“You tell me,” Lia said under her breath, her words barely audible above the rowdy group in the back.
“Everything is going according to plan and—”
“Daff,” her sister interrupted sharply, and Daff’s smile wavered. “Tell me what’s going on. You look so sad.”
“I do?”
“Sissy, you’re crying,” Lia said quietly and handed her a tissue. Daff lifted a hand to her cheek, horrified to find it wet.
“I’m going to ruin the party,” she lamented, and Lia shook her head.
“Nobody noticed, just keep your eyes front and pretend that we’re talking.”
“We are talking,” Daff pointed out, discreetly swiping at her face.
“What happened?”
“This isn’t the time or place.”
“Is it Spencer? Did you guys have a fight?”
“He bought a ring,” Daff said, more tears slipping down her cheek.
“But that’s wonderful, Daff.”
“Of course you would think that, it’s your ultimate goal in life,” Daff said bitterly, then immediately felt like a bitch when Lia looked like she’d been slapped.
“Hey, at least I have goals,” Lia pointed out scathingly, recovering quickly. And it was almost enough to make Daff smile.
Way to go, Lia!
“So . . . you’re not happy about the ring?” Lia clarified, and Daff shook her head.
“Why would he do that? When I specifically told him that I wasn’t into traditional relationships and that I was happy with what we had.”
“Because he loves you and wants more?”
“So he says. But if he loves me, why can’t he accept me as I am? Wouldn’t he be happy to just be in my life?”
“And if you love him, why can’t you accept that he wants what he’s never had? He wants someone to love, someone to make a family with. I think he wants to belong, because he never has before.”
Daff stared at Lia, the words echoing in her mind. She felt like someone had ripped a veil from her eyes and she was only now seeing things clearly.
Of course he wanted a family. She just had to look at his house to see that. Of course he wanted to belong. No matter how awkward he seemed around her family or how he kept himself apart from them, he always looked at them with something close to yearning in his eyes. It was entirely possible that he wasn’t deliberately keeping himself separate, he just didn’t know how to fit in. Or where he fit in.
“I’m very fond of him, but I don’t love him,” she finally protested weakly as the rest of Lia’s words sank in. Her sister rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.
“Please. You look at the guy like he hung the sun,” Lia dismissed.
“That’s just lust,” Daff said, sounding completely unconvincing even to herself.
“I’ve never seen you look happier or more content than you are around Spencer. You adore him.”
