26. Chapter Twenty-six

The last person I expected to show up at my door was Andy.

But there he was, neatly combed and finely dressed, taking up my doorway.

"You look nice," was his greeting.

"I'm going to a wedding," I intoned.

I had a half hour before I needed to leave, but I wouldn't be telling him that. If I did, he'd take it all for whatever this ill-timed visit was about.

"Can I come in for a minute? There's something I need to talk to you about." He shuffled forward, like he was so sure I was going to let him in.

With a huff, I stepped to the side and allowed him. I guessed he did know me well.

I shut the door but didn't lock it. He wouldn't be staying long, and I wanted it to be as easy as possible for him to leave.

He was in my living room, scanning the place. When my heels clicked on the floor behind him, he spun, giving me a half smile.

"You've made it nice in here," he remarked. "Your style."

"That's the best part of living alone. No one to veto my decorating decisions."

My jaw was so tight, I felt a headache coming. Why in the hell was he here?

He sat down on my couch, resting his ankle on the opposite knee, and nodded to the cushion beside him. I took the armchair, gingerly sitting on the edge so I could spring up if I wanted or needed to.

"What are you doing here, Andy?"

He cupped his hands on his knee, fingers locked. "You're doing well? Still dating?"

"Yes, and yes. You?"

"I'm well, and I'm still with Samantha. You're seeing…Miles Aldrich?"

"I am."

He expelled a long breath. "You left me, you know. I don't know why it seems like you're angry at me. You made the decision to go."

My chin dropped, and I pinned him with a hard glare. "Do we need to go over everything? Is that why you're here? Because I will."

He nodded, as if to tell me to rant at him. I didn't need his permission in my own home.

"Andy, you led me on and lied to me. You lied to my parents. You looked them and me right in the eye and told me an engagement was coming. At some point, you changed your mind about me, about marriage, and never said. Since we're here, since we're being honest, when was it? What changed your mind?"

He looked at me for a prolonged moment, his jaw rippling, then shook his head sadly.

"You were right. We don't need to do this."

"Why? Is telling the truth uncomfortable to you? Just tell me when you changed your mind so I can grasp how long you deceived me. I don't know why—"

"After Quinny died," he uttered, and the world stood still.

I blinked at him many times, but he stayed. This wasn't some sort of strange nightmare. "You decided not to marry me when my little sister died?"

He scrubbed at his face, groaning behind his hands. "I think I always knew, Daisy, but the way your sister died…the reasons…it clarified things for me. I still loved you and wanted to be with you, but I didn't see us having kids and a life with this…this cloud over our heads."

Oh, that smarted. The cloud was my family name and our reputation in this city. The way he'd always winced when introducing me to people. My parents had treated him like their own son, despite his shortcomings. He'd watched ball games with my dad and had traded books with Tom. My mama had always baked him a birthday cake, and they'd invited him on family vacations with us. To call that a cloud was beyond the pale. The only cloud in this town was the small minds who had driven my sister to…and he'd been there. He'd held me through losing her all while making an exit plan.

"I can't believe you." I stared at this stranger who'd once been my world. "You should have left me."

"When?" He threw his arms out. "When you spent a year barely functioning from grief? The next three when you were building yourself and your family back up? When I loved you and couldn't see myself without you? When, Daisy? In those four years after she died, when would have been a good time to leave you?"

My eyes narrowed on him. Sure, I'd been a mess for a long time after we'd lost Quinn, but not so long he couldn't have let me down gently.

"A conversation, Andy. If you'd told me you'd changed your mind about marriage and kids, we could have ended things amicably. You denied me that chance by lying and lying and lying." Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, but I refused to cry. I'd spent too much time perfecting my makeup before he'd gotten here. The inside of my mouth might've been chewed to hell, but on the outside, I was unaffected.

He sighed, his hands falling to his lap in heavy defeat. "I didn't come here to argue or dredge up things we've gotten over."

"I haven't gotten over my sister's death."

His shoulders rolled forward. He was shrinking by the second, right in front of my eyes. "I know. I didn't mean that."

"Why'd you come here if not to dredge things up?"

"I need to tell you something before you hear it from someone else."

It was incredible. To love someone for seven years then three months later, having them feel and look like a stranger. The eyes that had greeted me every morning weren't the color I remembered. The voice that had whispered "goodnight" in my ear no longer sounded smooth and comforting. What had once been an easy companionship was now like falling into a prickle bush. I wanted out of this situation as quickly as possible.

"Tell me," I said.

Andy's face had gotten pale, and the breath he sucked in didn't bring back any color.

"Last weekend, I proposed to Samantha, and she said yes. We're engaged."

It wasn't pity I saw in Andy's eyes, it was imploring. For what? For understanding? For me not to freak out and call him an asshole? He could implore all he wanted. I didn't answer to him.

Rising to my feet, I marched to the door, yanking it open. "Get out, Andy." Later, when I didn't feel like I'd had acid sprayed on every one of my surfaces, I'd praise myself for keeping my shoulders and words steady.

Andy crossed the room, bracing his hand on the doorframe. "I know it's fast. I know I said—"

"Get. Out," I gritted through clenched teeth. "I want nothing to do with you. You're a stranger to me."

"Daisy," he crooned. "I wish it could have been you. It was supposed to be."

I met his foreign eyes. "I think you've proven it was never supposed to be me. Three months ago, you said you loved me and begged me to stay. Now, you're marrying someone else. That says a whole fuck of a lot about what we meant. Get. Out."

"I'll always love you, you know," he whispered. "I wish it could have—"

He reached for my hair, and I batted his hand away. "All that talk of ‘it's not you, it's me' was a complete lie, huh? I was always the problem for you." I raised my chin. "Go away, Andy. I have somewhere to be."

He chuffed, his face coming slightly closer to mine. "You know, the short hair is growing on me." His knuckle grazed the side of my face before I could push him away. "I'm sorry, Daisy. I wish things were different."

I narrowed my eyes on him. "I wish you were swallowed by a black hole. We don't always get what we want, now do we?"

He huffed a laugh, looking me over for a long beat. Patting the doorframe, he walked out. I slammed the door behind him and threw the lock in place before he could make it down one step.

Everyone looked dashing in a tux, but Miles took the top prize.

My eyes should have been glued to the bride. Or even the groom, whose stoicism had broken the moment she'd come into view, a few tears escaping before he could swipe them away. Those things were beautiful, but Miles had captured my attention.

He bounced on his toes as he watched his brother marry Elise. When Weston and Elise cried, he did right along with them, all while looking like Pierce Brosnan's James Bond.

After the ceremony, he winked at me as he strode by me down the aisle, and Lily patted my hand.

"Keep him. He's one of the good ones."

"Yeah," I whispered.

Maybe I could. Not the way she meant, but the truth in her observation rang clearly. Miles was absolutely one of the good ones.

This day was one of the most beautiful.

The ceremony and reception were on the lawn of a gorgeous, stately old mansion. The guests were quivering with excitement. The bride and groom were wholly, madly in love. The friends and family surrounding them couldn't have been happier for them.

Watching them was nothing like the last wedding I'd attended. Surely that couple had been just as in love, but I hadn't felt it. I'd let my envy and desperation cloud how I saw them.

I understood what I hadn't then.

Andy and I should have been over for years, but I clung to the idea of him. To the hope that one day we'd be this bright and shining couple too, surrounded by this same kind of excitement. I had grasped at the straws of our dwindling relationship because it was all I'd known.

Without him, the clouds disappeared, and at this wedding, I was able to see Weston and Elise's love clearly. I'd never had this. No one had ever looked at me the way Weston did Elise.

That realization sunk into my bones and filled me with regret tinged with sadness.

Seven years, and I'd never been loved right, all because of my name. Who my family was. Andy had loved me as well as he could have, but it had been in spite of who I was, not because of it.

Miles' attention landed on me from across the lawn as he posed for pictures. The grin he shot me was unabashed and wide. He held nothing back, not a single care for who saw his connection to me.

My heart panged, but I tried to wipe away my melancholy. This was Weston and Elise's day, and the last thing they needed was some sad sop bringing down the mood.

With a crooked smile on my face, I watched the happy couple begin their life together. Though I still longed for something exactly like this—the love, the friend group, the acceptance—none of it was truly mine. Getting too attached to these people and this kind of love would make it hurt worse when the summer ended.