First things first. “Why did you take the money, Sasha?”
Leaning against the counter, her eyes cast down. “My dad needed it. He got into trouble with some pretty bad people, and they were going to take everything from him if he didn’t pay up. He was short ten thousand dollars, and he had to pay up the day I left. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you trying to help. I was afraid if your name was mentioned, they would hurt you too. I couldn’t bear that, so I kept my note plain, evasive, and left. My dad was able to get the money back quickly by selling some tied-up stock that became available. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was so scared. My dad was already at risk, I didn’t want you to be at risk too.” Moving forward, she places her hand on my chest, those dark green eyes peering up at me. “I love you, Carter. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’m saying it now.”
Those three words. Never once have they ever been uttered to me. Not from my parents, my uncle, or a girlfriend. But from Sasha, they flow freely and for some reason, it feels bittersweet. Unwanted.
My attention is pulled away from Sasha when I see movement by the door. The flash of blonde hair escaping the apartment.
Daisy.
Fuck! Daisy.
How could I forget Daisy was here? Scooting by Sasha, in my boxer briefs, I take off toward the door, and down my apartment stairs as I chase after her. She’s moving fast but I’m able to catch her before she exits the building. Thankfully, for my barely covered body.
“Daisy, where are you going?” I catch her by the arm, halting her in her tracks. When I turn her to face me, the tears falling down her face hit me like a ton of bricks. I can’t stand to see those beautiful eyes clouded.
“Let me go, Carter.”
“No. We haven’t had breakfast.” We haven’t had breakfast? That’s the best you got? I blame it on being shucked sideways by Sasha.
With her delicate, little fingers, she wipes away her tears, and when she attempts to put on a brave face, my heart starts hammering in my chest. “I’m not going back up there to eat breakfast with you.”
“Daisy—”
“No, Carter. I don’t compare. I don’t even have a chance, and I’m not going to pretend that I do. She’s everything I’m not, and you have history, history that has developed a love between you two. I’m not about to step in between that. And even if I did try to step in,” she hiccups, “I would never win against her.”
“It’s not a competition, Daisy.” It’s no competition, because Daisy has become my everything.
She shakes her head. “No, it isn’t, because I’m not in the running.”
She turns to walk away again but I stop her. “Don’t walk away from me; this isn’t over, Daisy.”
“It was the minute she walked back into your life. I’m not stupid, Carter. I saw the way you looked at her, the way your eyes lit up when she touched you. There is something between you two, and I’m not going to sit around and watch you figure it out.” She pulls on the strands of her hair and looks up at the ceiling while tears fall down her face. “Ugh, I should never have gotten involved with you.”
I’m able to take everything she says until that. I don’t agree, but I can take it. But saying she should never have gotten involved with me? That’s a fucking blow to my gut. I had thought that too, but now I desperately want her to not believe that. I want her to be mine.
“I took an opportunity because I met a boy I couldn’t keep my eyes off.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “And look at me, wearing yesterday’s clothing, hair matted, holding my shoes in my hand, and watching my boyfriend reconnect with his old girlfriend.” Pausing, she sifts angrily through her thick, blonde hair. “Was it even real, Carter? Was any of it real? Or were you just using me like your uncle said?”
Is she fucking kidding me? Was it real? I’ve never felt more damn alive than when she’s in my arms. Everything about our entire relationship has been real. How can she not see that?
Maybe because I’m the dickhead, with a girl waiting upstairs and a tied-up tongue.
She nods, her lips pressed tightly together. “That’s what I thought.” What? No. “See you later, Carter.”
“Daisy.”
“No,” she shouts, her word coming out as a sob. “I’m feeling broken, Carter. I had just started accepting myself, trying to believe I was the woman you saw. Someone acceptable. With potential. Now I just feel stupid. I gave my heart away too soon, only to be sucker-punched.” More tears, each drop causing a crack in my heart. “And last night, gosh, last night was just . . .” She pauses. “It was so real for me, Carter. It was so real that I thought maybe, just maybe, you were the man I was supposed to be with.” She emits a small, sad laugh. “I guess you live and you learn.” Sniffing, she tightens her hold on her items and turns toward the door, looking over her shoulder, she says, “It was so real to me, I’m just sorry it wasn’t for you.”
As if I’m set in stone, I stand in place, watching her retreating back slowly drift away and yet, I can’t move. Why am I not moving? Why am I not stopping her? Why am I not shouting at the top of my lungs that it was so fucking real for me too?
Because for the first time in my life, I’m terrified. The most pure and authentic beauty I’ve ever come across gave me her heart and I just annihilated it. I hadn’t meant to. I’d been blindsided.
Facing my fears.
I thought my fear was never making something of myself, when in fact, my actual fear is learning to let love in.
And the love I wanted just left the building.
JACE
“As we come to the end of our program in the next few weeks, I really want you to reflect on your accomplishments, on the thoughts and feelings you’ve experienced, testing new waters and exploring new realms of your normal routine. Did you learn something about yourself you never knew? Did you find strength within your body you didn’t know existed? Did your soul connect with another’s in a way you weren’t expecting? Reflect. Today, you shall do nothing but reflect and evaluate your progress.” Marleen sits on her desk like always and looks out over the room. “These last few weeks should have tested your limits, they should have helped you grieve, and they should have helped you grow. Even at your own pace, you should be feeling a difference in your everyday approach to life. Take that in, observe and evaluate, because the next task you’ll face is acceptance. What do I mean by that?”
A few people raise their hands, but she motions them to go down.
“I don’t want you to answer, I want you to think about it. What is acceptance to you?”
I hate questions like that. What is acceptance? Well, according to Webster’s Dictionary . . .