7

CAMDEN

We stepped into the mansion still holding hands, our fingers intertwined like we hadn’t spent the last few hours in that private theater devouring each other’s lips. Daisy’s cheeks still carried a faint flush, and every time I glanced at her, I remembered the way she’d melted into that second kiss...soft, eager, and addictive.

Her curves pressed against me in the dark, the little sigh she made when I deepened it. God, I wanted more. But as soon as the front door closed, reality crashed back in.

Olivia was waiting in the foyer like she owned the place, wearing a slinky red dress and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She completely ignored Daisy standing right beside me.

“Camden, darling! I made dinner for you. Your favorite—grilled salmon with that lemon herb sauce you love. It’s waiting in the dining room, still warm.”

I cleared my throat, squeezing Daisy’s hand. “Thanks, Olivia. That’s thoughtful, but we already ate out. Maybe later.”

Before I could steer us upstairs, Mom rose from the living room sofa where she sat beside Dad. Her voice cut through like ice. “Nonsense, Camden. You will eat what Olivia prepared. She went through all that trouble for you. It’s the least you can do after she came all this way.”

Dad stayed silent, flipping through his tablet, but the message was clear. Mom wasn’t backing down.

Daisy’s fingers went rigid in mine. I felt the shift in her—the way her shoulders dropped slightly, that familiar blank mask sliding over her face. It hurt her. Deeply.

These people...my parents still hadn’t accepted her, treating her like an unwanted guest in her own home. It wasn’t any different from how her own family had sold her off like excess baggage. The realization twisted in my gut. I’d seen glimpses of her fire today, the way she’d chosen that dress and owned every curve, but this chipped away at it again.

She pulled her hand free gently. “I’m tired,” she said quietly, not looking at anyone. “I’ll head up.”

“Daisy, wait...” I started, but she was already moving toward the stairs, back straight but steps hurried. Annoyance flashed across her face; real, raw frustration. I sensed it like a storm brewing. Without another word to Olivia or Mom, I followed her.

The second we entered our bedroom, I locked the door behind us with a soft click. The room felt smaller, charged with everything unsaid. Daisy stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, staring out into the dark garden.

“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer. “Talk to me. Why are you upset?”

She spun around, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. “Why am I upset? Really, Camden? Your ex makes dinner for you like I’m not even here, and your mother forces you to eat it? In front of me? It’s like I don’t exist. Like I’m still that pathetic girl they all look down on.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building. “It’s not like that. Olivia’s just being... Olivia. Pushy. And Mom’s traditional. I thanked her to be polite, that’s all.”

“Polite?” Daisy’s voice rose, lively with emotion now. She wasn’t shrinking anymore—she was fighting. “You’re giving her leverage, Camden. You’re married now. To me. Yet you let her hug you, kiss your cheek this morning, and now cook for you like you’re still hers. How do you think that makes me feel? Especially after today....after the theater, after you kissed me like that?”

I stepped forward, defensive heat rising. “I’m not giving her leverage. It was one hug, and I corrected her immediately. The kiss on the cheek? She caught me off guard. I’m being civil, Daisy. That’s how things work in my world. You can’t just burn bridges.”

“Civil?” She laughed bitterly, but there was pain behind it. “While I stand there feeling invisible? My own parents treated me like a transaction, and now your family is doing the same. When does it stop? When do I stop being the pity project everyone tolerates?”

The words hit too close. I opened my mouth to reassure her, but the argument had momentum. Tension crackled between us, the same spark from our kisses now fueling the fire.

“You’re overthinking this,” I shot back. “I chose you downstairs that day. I signed those papers. I rented an entire theater for us tonight. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Daisy’s eyes welled up, but she blinked hard. “Then why does it feel like you’re still halfway with her? I saw the way your mom smiled when Olivia hugged you. Like I was the mistake.”

My chest tightened. The memory of catching her on that window flashed back....her voice cracking about being a “bloated cow,” unwanted, a debt payment. I’d acted on instinct then. Pity mixed with intrigue. But now? Now it was more. The way she’d tied my tie this morning, her laugh, those kisses... But the truth slipped out before I could catch it.

“I married you because I pitied you, okay? That day, seeing you try to jump out the window... it got to me. I couldn’t let you face that rejection.”

The words hung in the air like poison.

Daisy froze. “Pity?” she whispered, her voice was low this time like she had been caught off guard. Disbelief and shock crashing over her face. The room went deadly quiet. My own face dropped as I realized what I’d said. "Shit." I hadn’t meant to....

Pain flooded her eyes. Not the dramatic kind, but deep, exhausted tears that spilled over as she turned away. She wasn’t crying to win me back. This was years of being looked down on, body-shamed by her family and society, used as a bargaining chip. It all broke free.

“I can fend for myself,” she said through the tears, her voice trembling but strong. “I don’t need anyone’s pity. What I hate most in this world is pity—being looked down on like I’m less than. Being used for everyone’s personal gain. My parents, your family, and now you... I’m done.”

She straightened, wiping her face. “The marriage is over". She said with so much finality!

My heart slammed against my ribs. “No, wait, Daisy. Let’s talk it out. I didn’t mean it like that. Things have changed since then. Believe me, I do not pity yo.....”

She brushed past me toward the closet, pulling out her small bag. “Now you’re free. Go back to your ex, your perfect Olivia. I won’t pester your life anymore. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning and contact the lawyer for the divorce papers as soon as possible.”