I bent down, repositioning the flowers so they sat upright. They were bright and yellow and cheery, like she was on her best days. Daisy wasn’t perfect by any means, but on her best days, she was more than I deserved at the time.
“Miss you, Dais,” I said, placing my heart over my chest. “I hope you finally found your happiness.”
I pulled out toward the road and headed back to the airport to catch my flight home, replaying our end days together. They tended to play like an old movie reel any time I thought about her, as if I needed to remind myself that we were never meant to be together.
It wasn’t long after Daisy decided to join me on tour that she decided to stay. I quit my man-whoring ways for her, and she filled a void that’d been empty far too long. But after a while, she became accustomed to life in the spotlight, wearing designer dresses and becoming a human accessory for me at any and all red carpet events and award shows I attended. And it wasn’t long after that that she’d become a glitzed-up and glamourized version of her former self. The sweet girl who once distracted me from my self-inflicted heartache had disappeared, leaving in her place a self-centered beauty queen with a taste for VVS diamonds, Aston Martins, and Hermes bags.
I sent her packing as soon as I found the strength to tell her I didn’t love her like that anymore, though I neglected to tell her I wasn’t sure I’d ever really loved her. At least not in the all-consuming, unconditional sort of way. I told her there was someone else out there for her who could love her the way she needed, but it wasn’t me.
Watching her drive away on that rainy April day was the last time I’d ever see her. Little did I know that I was sending her directly into the arms of a shitty ex and a friend named heroin.
“Goodbye, Daisy,” I said as I left Lincoln Park. My heart was filled with an ache that reminded me that I once had loved Daisy – in my own way. Regardless of everything, she would forever own a small piece of my heart that no one else would ever touch. I said a silent prayer, hoping that she’d found peace and love and happiness wherever she was. And then I asked for her forgiveness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Five minutes, Ms. Andrews,” the wedding planner called out as she knocked on the door. I lifted Addison’s veil over her head as my mother stood back and dabbed her eyes with a tissue, rambling on about her first marriage to our father.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” I said, offering her a smile. She pulled in a cleansing breath and nodded. All morning she’d been quiet. Happy but quiet. If I knew my sister at all, I knew that it meant she was stuck inside her head. It happened sometimes. “Don’t overthink this. He’s great. He loves you. You love him. Nothing else matters.”
Addison nodded. “I’m not worried about him. Just digesting this life change and what it means.”
“Are we ready?” the wedding planner called from the doorway.
My sister nodded as my mother reached for her arm. She was going to give her away that afternoon. We headed toward the back of the Presbyterian church and lined up in order, with me linking my arm with Wilder’s best man and first cousin, Theo Van Cleef.
One by one, we walked down the aisle. A packed church with guests squeezed into every pew was a true testament to how many people cared about them. Family and friends and clients came from all over to watch them tie the knot.
After exchanging beautiful, handwritten vows, Wilder kissed his bride and they ran down the aisle to a waiting limousine that carried them around the city for pictures. An hour later, we all reconvened at the W Hotel for a lavish reception.
“Hey, if you want someone to dance with later, I’m your man,” Theo said as I stood around and mingled. He handed me a flute of champagne and flashed a lady-killer smile that indicated he was skilled in the art of picking up women.
Sorry, Prince Charming, you’re talking to the wrong Cinderella.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” I laughed.
“She’s already spoken for,” a man interrupted with a drawl I’d recognize anywhere. I spun around to see Beau standing behind me dressed in a navy Italian silk suit with a skinny black tie, his hair slicked and combed neatly and his signature cologne wafting my way.
“What are you doing here?” My eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.
“Thought you could use a date,” he said.
“You assumed I came here alone?”
“I talked to Addison. She told me.”
“She knew you were coming?”
“I told her not to tell you.” Beau slipped his hand around my lower back as the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I tried to get here sooner, but my tour bus got a flat on I-80 just west of Pittsburgh.”
“Thank you,” I said, inhaling him.
“I’m not going to ask you any questions tonight, Dakota. I’m not here to pressure you into giving me an answer,” Beau said. “I’m in town for the show, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for not escorting my future wife to her sister’s wedding when I had the chance.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing and swatting his shoulder. The wedding singers on stage began belting out a Tony Bennett classic, and Beau lifted a single brow. “Shall we dance?”
Leading me out onto the dance floor, he pulled me close, pressing his body against mine and keeping it there for the better duration of the evening. Across the dance floor I spotted my mother dancing awfully close to cousin Theo, her cheek pressed against his broad shoulder and a medicated calm yet drunken smile plastered across her face. I had to commend her for temporarily setting aside the majority of her craziness for Addison and Wilder’s sake. It wasn’t until the wedding band crooned their very last song and Addison and Wilder had long since said their goodbyes to their guests when Beau and I headed outside.
With the cool night air ruffling my hair, I stared into the eyes of the man who could very well be my future or the biggest mistake of my life.
Traffic whirred past us and horns honked. I opened my mouth in an attempt to invite him over, as I wasn’t ready for the night to end yet, but he silenced my words with a soft kiss. With his hand against my cheek, he leaned into me and breathed excitement and life into my bones with a single, solitary kiss.
When he was finished, he reached into his back pocket and handed me a small plastic card. “This is a backstage pass for the show tomorrow night.”
He glanced over my shoulder at the passing Yellow Cabs.
“You have to go?” I asked.
“Yeah, big day tomorrow. Got to get up early, rehearse, all that.” He lingered for a second, and I’d never wanted him to stay more than I did in that moment. Being with him again that night, dancing and laughing the way we used to, I’d never felt so alive.
Or so sure that I wanted to be with him.
“Goodnight, Dakota.” With that, he stepped toward the curb, hailing a cab and disappearing inside. As the taxi carried him away, a pull from inside my chest dropped down into the pit of my stomach.