by Meghan Quinn
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 . . .
Honestly, what are we supposed to say?
“I see a lot of blank stares. Let me guide you.” Marleen stands and circles the room as she continues. “As a group, we’ve woven through this program taking on tasks and trying to make the most of them, ticking off the checklist, waiting for the next challenge. But have any of you sat back and really assessed where you’ve come from, how far you’ve traveled down this new journey, the new depths you’ve reached? I’m sure some of you have, but I would guess eighty percent of you haven’t. And that’s okay, you’ve been caught up in the moment, but now we must slow down.”
Thankfully, in the corner of my view on the iPad, I can see Hollyn. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tight-fitting, long-sleeve T-shirt. All I want to do is jump through the screen, scoop her up, and cuddle the fuck out of her. I hate that I’m so far away right now. Once again, everything is out of my control.
“I want you to reflect on who you were before you came to the program and who you are now. It’s time to accept the past, what it’s brought you, the lessons you’ve learned, and start accepting the new you.”
Breaking into our groups, we section off, and it’s the first time I notice Carter isn’t sitting next to Daisy. And Daisy, I’ve never seen her looking so dejected. What the hell did that asshole do?
“Where’s Carter?” I ask.
Daisy looks down at her feet, so Hollyn answers. “Not sure. He didn’t show up tonight.”
“Daisy.” I don’t continue until she looks in my direction. Once I have her eyes, I say, “Are you okay?”
A trembling lip meets my question as she shakes her head, no. Shit.
“What’s going on?”
Hollyn answers for her. “Uh, Carter’s ex came back into town. It wasn’t a very good encounter for Daisy.”
“Shit.” I rub my face. “I’m sorry, Daisy.”
She shrugs and in a meek voice, says, “I didn’t put up a fight. It was obvious there was something between them.” A long exhale escapes her. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough.” I glance at Hollyn to read her expression and take it upon myself to say, “Let’s just write our
letters and reflect like Marleen said. Daisy, we are here for you if you need to talk. Don’t let this be a setback but rather motivation in the direction you’ve been traveling. You know how to reach me.”
“Thank you, Jace.” She wipes a quick tear away and takes out her stationery. She pulls her feet up close to her and starts writing her letter, tears streaming down her face. It just about kills me.
“Hollyn, could you call me?”
“Sure.”
It takes no time for her to hang up the iPad and call me on her iPhone. When I answer, I say, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Get in line.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I still don’t know all the details. But what I do know is Daisy stayed the night at Carter’s and when she woke up, Sasha walked back in the apartment, gave Carter some money she took from him, and then told him she loved him and wanted him back.”
“Oh, come on. What did Carter do?”
“When she left, he at least chased after her, but when she asked if what they had was real to him, he didn’t answer.”
“Yup, I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“I just don’t get it,” Hollyn comments. “I’ve known Carter for some time now and whenever he’s around Daisy, I see awe in his eyes. He’s a different person with her next to him. Like happiness has finally found him. I don’t get why he wouldn’t answer her.”
“Maybe he still has feelings for Sasha.”
“Maybe.” Hollyn sighs. “I feel so bad for her. Amanda said Daisy has been moping around the house, not even touching her craft table, an obvious cause for concern.”
“She needs to get out. Do you think she would want to come to the game too? I can fly you both down. Has she ever been out of the state? Might be just what she needs.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course. She’s a friend, Hollyn. I take care of my people. Set up the details with her, and I’ll get the tickets.”
“You’re amazing.” She pauses. “Hey, how did your meeting with the lawyers go? You haven’t mentioned it.”
Does she mean the nightmare meeting? The one where my lawyers told me there is a fifty-percent chance this adoption can be reversed? The one where it felt like walls were closing in on me while I gasped for air, air I still haven’t found.
“Not the best meeting. Basically, Rebecca has a good case. I’m at loss as to what to do.”
“And talking to her isn’t working?”
“Not so much. Even if I wanted to give it one more go, to rationalize with her, I seem to blow up every time she’s around. It’s impossible for me to keep my cool.”
“That’s understandable. I wish there was something I could do for you.”
“Just be there, babe. That’s all I ask.”
“I can do that. Hey, Marleen is starting to collect letters, I should probably go write mine. Call me later tonight to hash out details. I’ll be sure to talk to Daisy before I leave.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
The phone goes silent, my empty apartment feeling very lonely all of a sudden. I’ve traveled a bit for baseball, always being a loner when it came to my personal life. But I’ve craved a family, and that’s part of the pain in losing Hope. I’ve felt relief for her to have the family she deserves, but desolated I wasn’t able to keep her to fill that emptiness in my soul. Then Hollyn entered my life, and hell, everything changed. I started to see what it would be like to have someone special in my life, someone I could cherish.
Will she be the one I can finally call my own? I sure as hell hope so because I’ve fallen for her. I’ve fallen for her so damn hard.
***
Dear Life,
I’ve put on a brave face, I’ve tried to exude positivity, but I can’t help but feel sick to my stomach over the idea of going to Jace’s game. I’m terrified.
So many memories and emotions; so much guilt. Can Eric see me now? What would he really think of Jace? Would he approve? Would he want me to find comfort in someone else? If roles were reversed, I don’t know if I would be too keen on Eric moving on, but then again, I’ve always been a very jealous person.
Why can’t I be one of those people who skate through life, never having to really face adversity? Or perhaps, why am I not someone who copes with adversity? You’ve presented me with a challenge I’m not sure I’m strong enough to overcome. Where do I find my strength?
Help me, Life. Help me find the acceptance in my loss. Please, please help me find acceptance. I just want this aching feeling to finally dissipate.
Please.
Sincerely,
Hollyn
Dear Life,
Have you ever had a girl crush? I haven’t, that was until Sasha came along. Have you ever heard that song, “Girl Crush” by Little Big Town? I’m sure you have. I heard it on the radio and haven’t been able to think of anything else.
Just like the song says, I want to drown myself in her perfume. I want her long black hair. I want so desperately to know what it’s like to be her, because she has everything.
She has Carter.
I know I chose to leave, it seemed like the logical decision given their history, but I wasn’t expecting to feel so pathetically desperate to be someone else.
And I hate that about me. I shouldn’t want to be another human being. I should want to be myself. This life I’m trying to live, trying to develop, it shouldn’t be focused on one man and his heart. It should be focused on me and the beating organ in my chest.
This whole program I’ve spent with Carter, experiencing life through him. Well, I’m done. I want to experience life for myself. I want to know what it’s like to watch a movie alone in the theater. I want to see what it’s like to stand on top of a mountain, the wind being my only friend. I want to start a career. I want my own place. I want to be able to walk around naked in my apartment just because I can.
And I want to be able to revolve my life around my passion, rather than a man I’m passionate about.
That girl in the mirror, she’s not fading yet. She still has a little more fight left in her.
Kind regards,
Daisy
Dear Life,
My best friend and I aren’t talking.
I’m barely hanging on to the girl I’ve fallen for.
My baseball career is subpar at best right now.
The ability to breathe is getting tougher and tougher with each passing day.
And I have one responsibility, to give Hope the best opportunity at having a family, and from the look of it, I’m failing miserably.
Accepting my past and accepting my future, they both read like a melting pot of human crap.
Can I get a pass, accept neither and start all over? Might be my best option right about now.
Jace
Carter Crawford: Not present for the meeting. Called in sick, provided Doctor’s note. Hope for a return soon. Quickly discussed the materials and offered him assistance in acceptance. He hung up before I could say goodbye. I see no change in him. Not sure if he will ever change. Marleen
Step Seven: Acceptance
CARTER
Cool glass presses into my fingertips, the bottle I’ve been drinking from for the past few hours about to join its friends in a scattered collection of “fuck yous” on the floor. In the other hand, pieces of highly overrated paper with Benjamin Franklin’s filthy mug on the front.
Money. That’s what this world revolves around. Greedy, soiled money. Such a burnable, rip-able, steal-able object can either make or break your life.
And here I sit, twenty thousand dollars on my lap, my lucky ticket in my hand, and a pure hatred for myself. I bet it all. Every last cent Sasha gave me, I bet it all with the hopes of losing. I wanted everything to be taken away from me, because that’s what has already happened, might as well tack it on with the rest of my bullshit life.
I let her walk away, without even trying to get her back. I let her listen to Sasha clai
m her love for me and not dismiss it. I let her watch Sasha touch me, invade my space, the space she was just snuggling up to. And then I just let her walk out of my life because I’m a fucking coward.
Kicking Sasha out of my apartment was pretty simple after that. Despite how I felt about her in the past, that’s exactly where those feelings stayed: in the past. Nothing compares to the way I feel when I’m with Daisy. She’s changed me, morphed me into a different man who actually cares about something other than my pursuit to be free of my uncle.
With Daisy, it was like my life was playing out in front of me in a Technicolor musical dream, with fucking dancing quilted vests and hideous turtlenecks as the chorus line.
Now, the world is dull and dreary, a plethora of greys barely distinct from one shade to the next. And there is an ache, deep in my chest, an ache so debilitating that I’ve surrendered all attempts at moving forward with my goals.
And Dear Life? Yeah, fuck that program. Getting Fitzy’s friend to write me a doctor’s note was easy, listening to Marleen trying to coach me over the phone, pure torture. That bitch has some tits to think she can save everyone. Newsflash, Marleen: some people aren’t worth saving.
And you know what, some people don’t want to be saved. Can’t. Be.
What I can’t seem to get over is that I sit here, bottle of whiskey in hand, the key to my freedom in the other and yet, I haven’t broken through the glass ceiling of my proverbial imprisonment.