CHAPTER 2

Chapter 2

My therapist once told me that grief mixes badly with alcohol. I didn’t believe her then. I did now.

Grief gave me nightmares.

Whiskey brought them to life.

Maybe I was being delusional. Maybe I was losing my mind all over again. Either way, Anthony Russo was standing in front of me and nothing sobers up a person faster than seeing the one who ruined their life.

My body moved backward on instinct, trembling so hard it almost hurt.

“It's not real,” I mumbled, my pulse roaring in my ears. “He's not real.”

Another step back. Maybe I should have thrown that party. These delusions can't get to me when I’m high and lost in a world filled with nothing but stars.

I just needed to get my body to fucking move.

I shut my eyes, dragging in a deep breath. He wasn't real. He'd be gone as soon as I was able to get my shit together. 

Another deep breath, long enough to make me think I was finally getting control. But when I opened my eyes, he was still there. HE WAS STILL THERE! 

“Daisy.”

No!

His voice echoed in my head, over and over again, while I went over how doomed I was. For months after he disappeared, I saw Anthony everywhere. In crowded streets, restaurants, dreams. 

Once, I saw him standing behind me in my bathroom mirror and screamed so loudly my neighbors threatened to call the police.

But the hallucinations never spoke.

They never looked at me with guilt in their eyes… and they definitely never said my name like it still belonged to them.

“No,” I let out a shaky breath. “No…no!”

“Daisy, I'm sorry.”

His voice was rougher than I remembered, and hearing it after all this time felt like someone ripping old stitches apart with bare hands.

Everything came rushing back. Every fucking thing. Every emotion I had spent years trying to bury came back at once.

The grief.

The rage.

The humiliation.

The unbearable, descending love.

My vision tilted violently, breathing becoming impossible. The ground shifted beneath me.

Rough arms wrapped around me as my legs failed me. Yet, even in that moment, all I could feel was pain. As darkness swallowed me whole, Anthony’s voice followed me into it.

“Daisy…”

**********

‘Wake up, sleepyhead.’

‘I love the way you look when you're pretending to be asleep.’

‘You can't avoid me forever, doll. Wake up or I'm gonna tickle the life out of you.’

‘Three seconds. 3… 2…’

I jolted awake with a loud gasp, my heart picking up a pace that was way too fast for someone who just fainted from a panic attack.

“Hey, hey. Breathe, doll. It was just a dream.”

My blood froze in my veins, my body going still.

Doll?

I didn't just feel his hand on my shoulder, I felt him. All of him. The smell of his cologne that I was surprisingly still very familiar with. The sound of his ragged breathing, drifting in and out of my ears like a melody I could not get out of my head. The twisting of knots and unending flutters in my stomach, the type I got whenever the man I used to love was in the room.

The man I loved.

I didn't have to turn to him. He appeared before me, his eyes filled with a gaze I wasn't ready to understand.

My eyes moistened.

“It's… it's not a dream,” I mumbled. “You're real.”

He pulled back his hand, rising to his full length. “I am.”

“How… how are… why?” I stuttered.

“I'm sorry,” he took a step back. “You weren't supposed to see me.”

My heart twisted in my chest. After all these years, that was all he had to say?

I bit my lip, so hard that a familiar metallic taste filled my tongue.

“How could you?” I said. 

His jaw tightened, like he was trying to hold back. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't…” I pulled in a sharp breath, kicking my legs off the couch. My legs felt wobbly and I almost fell. While I tried to steady myself, I saw him reach out to hold me. But his hands never made it to me. He retracted them almost immediately, shoving them into his hoodie.

I blinked back the burning liquid in my eyes. This was not the time to cry.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice firmer than I felt.

“I'll leave,” he said, his eyes darting across the room, at everywhere else but me. “You were not supposed to see me. I just wanted to check in and leave.”

“Check in and leave?” I gasped. “You wanted to check in and leave? After three years? After you disappeared from my life like we didn't spend every morning of six years of our lives waking up next to each other and kissing with our morning breaths and burning toasts in the kitchen while fucking on the counter and…”

“Daisy…”

“You can't just check in and leave!” I yelled. 

My pulse pounded in my ears, my hands trembling. “You can't leave again.”

He shook his head, still not looking at me. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Daisy.”

“God, no!” I buried my face in my hands as the tears fell. “No.. no!”

If anyone had told me I would be feeling this way anytime soon, I would have punched them in the face.

“I'm sorry,” he went on. “I'll leave. I'm sorry.”

My hands curled up into fists, pressed against my eyes, my breath turning ragged. I hated this helplessness. I hated the fact that he could just walk in here and the entire life I had somehow built for myself would begin to crumble like a building with no foundation. I hated the fact that after everything, he could still make me feel this way.

I hated the fact that he could make me hate myself because somehow… I didn't want him to leave.

Wiping the tears off my face, I let my hands fall to my side. He was at the door, hoodie back on, body as rigid as the walls in the room, about to walk out of my life yet again.

“Anthony!”

He stopped. 

It was the first time I had said his name in a long time. It was also the first time I was willing to stop lying to myself.

“I'm getting married tomorrow.”

He turned slightly, his figure mischievously breathtaking. His face remained hidden in his hoodie but I knew he was looking at me. The thought of that, the idea of his blue eyes fixed on my body did things to me that I was not ready to explain.

“I know,” he grumbled a response.

My brows furrowed. “You know? How?”

He looked away. “You don't have to know that.”

My legs moved impulsively, closing the distance between us. As I stood in front of him, the dots began connecting.

The man in the hoodie.

It clicked.

“You've been watching me.”

“Daisy, you have to let me leave.”

Hell no!

“No!” I snapped. “Why? Why have you been watching me?”

“Daisy, please.” He groaned.

I grabbed his arm. “Answer me!”

“I can't.” He returned, voice just as loud. “I can't answer your questions, Daisy.” He took a step back, out of my hold and away from my reach. “Look, I made a mistake and now I have to fix it by leaving. I don't want to ruin this.”

I blinked back the hot tears springing up in my eyes once more. “Ruin what?”

He hesitated, the tension in the room palpable. “I don't want to ruin you.”

I laughed. Yes, I did. I couldn't stop myself because what shitty irony had I found myself in?

“It's a little too late for that, don't you think?”

“Daisy…”

I sniffled, wiping my face again. “Fine, I won't ask you any questions. I won't… you don't have to tell me why you left. I just need to know that I'm not insane.”

He wasn't looking at me. He was avoiding my eyes, and that seemed to be the place I wanted to die in.

I took a step closer. “Tell me I'm not insane, Anthony. I've been telling myself all these lies and pretending to be fine in front of everyone but I am losing my mind. I'm getting married tomorrow? Biggest joke of the century, because how does it make sense that I'm getting married to someone else when I still feel…” my voice lowered, “all these things I feel for you.”

Saying that out loud felt like taking your broken leg out of a cast it had been in for months. It felt like relief. Like freedom.

“Daisy, this is a mistake.”

“I don't care,” another step closer. “Look at me.”

He shut his eyes. “I can't.”

“You've been watching me because you feel the same way. Because you can't get me out of your head no matter how hard you try.”

“Daisy, please stop.”

I pressed my hand to his chest. “Look at me, Anthony. Look at me and say I'm not insane.”

“Daisy… God… please!”

“Tell me I'm not insane,” I pushed, well past my limits now. “Look at me and tell me you feel the same way.”

“Daisy…”

“Tell me!”

“I do.”

I froze. 

Anthony opened his eyes, and those blue orbs stared back at me, with the same look I had seen the night before he left.

“I feel the same way, Daisy.” His voice softened. “I never stopped.”