by S. M. Soto
The hardest part of all of this has been Faith. I hate myself for allowing her to grow attached to Callan. I hate even more that I allowed myself to depend on him with her. When did seeing him hold her, feed her, even change her damn diaper do this to me? Why did I let this man be a part of every pivotal moment with her? I can’t block him out because he’s always there. Always lingering in the back of my mind.
Tonight is the rehearsal dinner at a cute little restaurant here in Santorini. I’ve been preparing myself for this night, this entire trip, for weeks. But I know nothing will compare to seeing him in real time, and definitely not with a date in tow.
I’m not mentally prepared for that.
“There you are,” I coo, clearing my thoughts of Callan when I spot her. Dressed up in a bright little floral dress and sandals is my sweet little girl. A smile brightens her face, and she reaches out to me. Gently, I take her from Caroline, careful not to crease her dress. There’s this peace I feel when holding Faith. This peace I never thought I’d be able to have.
My life may not have been the smoothest sailing, but I’d do it over and over again just to get her. To have this.
“Thank you for taking care of her while I got ready. I appreciate it.”
She waves me off. “Please. We were having a good little chat. How are you? Is everything on schedule?”
I smile. “It is. Our bride is happy, and so far, there have been no screwups. Fingers crossed it stays that way.”
“It will. When things are meant to be, life always works out the way it’s supposed to.”
I glance away, fiddling with Faith’s bag, anything to avoid Caroline’s gaze.
That’s her—inspirational speaker to a T.
Normally, I thrive on her words, needing to hear them, but right now, I tune her out. They’re the very last thing I want to focus on. Because somehow, it always feels like she’s talking about Callan and me, but that can’t be true. We weren’t meant to be. If we were, we’d have worked things out by now.
He wouldn’t have brought a date all the way here.
I stare out at the bright turquoise water, focusing intently on the white caps.
“You both look beautiful.”
My heart pricks as I look down at Faith. Her hair is a few shades lighter than mine and so is her skin tone, but every part of her is mine. She is mine. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with that fact. To stop comparing myself to her mother. To stop feeling like a failure.
Faith doesn’t care about any of that. She just wants a mother who is going to love her fiercely. Just because I didn’t birth her, doesn’t mean I can’t do either.
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to bring with me for the rehearsal dinner, so I decided on this one.”
Caroline smiles. It’s so motherly, it makes me want to cry. In so many ways, she reminds me of my mother. It’s like my mother has found a way to live through her for me. As if knowing I’d always need her. That’s the thing about losing parents. It’s like a piece of you dies with them. That’s what happened when I lost my mother. And when my father fell apart, it only intensified.
“It looks stunning on you.”
I opted for a yellow sundress and some nude espadrille heels. The dress brings out the golden and olive hue of my skin tone. My dark brown hair lays in artfully curled waves around my shoulders, thanks to my best friend. Somehow, she’s still taking care of me even when it’s her big weekend.
I smooth my hand down the material, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I don’t know why I care what Callan will think when he sees me. I don’t know why I care at all.
As if sensing my nervousness, Caroline offers, “Want to head down together?”
I nod, smiling in thanks. I suddenly have lost the ability to speak. How am I going to survive an entire weekend being near him and another woman? Watching them together?
Green envy spills into my chest.
I won’t be able to.
Pushing all thoughts of Callan and his date out of my mind, I walk with Caroline toward the restaurant. Our heels clack against the cobblestoned path, the warm sun beating against our skin. There are already plenty of people milling about. The excited energy that comes with weddings is alive and well in the air.
I soak it all in. Damon’s family and friends. A few of Rose’s friends from work. They’re all sweet ladies. All incredibly accomplished. It’s a bit intimidating.
Perspiration clings to my body, even with the cool ocean breeze rolling over my skin. The air reeks of saltwater and something fresh.
“There they are!” Rose yells. I feel all eyes on me, and as much as I try to hide it, I blush. As if sensing all the attention is on us, Faith claps happily in my arms and chatters away in her baby babbles, as if she’s trying to speak to everyone. It’s the goddamn cutest thing.
Damon’s mother and sisters crowd me, along with Rose’s work friends. They all fawn over Faith, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. Because she’s loved. This little girl is already loved by so many, and she doesn’t even realize it yet.
The surrounding air suddenly changes, and I immediately know why, even without turning. My heart is suddenly racing in my chest at the prospect of seeing him again after all this time. I can feel eyes on me. Likely Rose or Caroline, gauging my reaction to being near Callan again, but I don’t feed into it. I focus all my attention on Faith, pretending my heart isn’t a dull throb in my chest.
“I’m surprised you showed up.” I hear Rose mutter to him.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Is his cool response. It’s a lash against my skin. A perfectly placed jab. His words roll over my flesh, burning and soothing, and the remnants of his deep voice settle in my chest.
I don’t want to be rude and hightail it away from Rose’s friends, but I also don’t want to stand here so close to him anymore. I’m just about to walk off when he and his date move around us, giving me a clear view. It feels like someone has ripped my heart straight out of my chest and is stomping on the organ.
They aren’t holding hands—thank God. But they seem familiar with each other, and as much as I want to deny it, they look good together. A perfect fit. She with her willowy body and perfect strawberry blonde hair, and me with curves that aren’t so subtle. They look like Ken and strawberry Barbie. I hate it.
Forcing myself to look away, I pretend I’m listening to one of Rose’s aunts. I’m just catching up with her conversation when I feel it. His gaze on me. I feel it burning into my flesh. Damn near branding me as his. My breath catches. My stomach flutters against my will, but my heart painfully thuds to life.
“Oh, my goodness. Who is this little beauty?” I hear someone ask. I smell him before I see him. His scent has been ingrained in me for years. I’m like Pavlov’s dog, lapping him up whenever I get a whiff. Trained to want this man.
Slowly, I glance at the woman speaking to me. Callan’s date. She towers over me in her heels, and it makes me feel small.
“Faith. My daughter.”
The woman smiles. “Wow. She doesn’t even look like you. She must take after her dad.”
It’s a struggle to mask the pain. It shoots through my chest, taking my breath away. How can this stranger say something so simple and break down every ounce of progress I’ve made? I tighten my hold around Faith, needing her warmth to help ease the pain swirling through the center of my chest. It’s the eye of the storm.
I press my lips together and nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. Not when I feel my chin quiver.
“She’s very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I don’t know why I do it, but I look at her date, and I wish I hadn’t. As soon as our gazes clash, that ache in my chest becomes unbearable. It suddenly hurts to breathe. To see him standing so close. He looks handsome, dressed in a white button-up and his usual slacks. His hair is in that disarray that I love. It has me itching to run my hands through it. To feel any part of him. His eyes are what do me in. The mercurial gra
y and swooping arcs of blue there touch a part of me only he’s ever been able to uncover. I feel like his gaze is caressing my skin, saying all the things he’ll never be able to. All the things I’ll never be able to.
His brows are drawn in as he stares at me. He almost looks angry or upset, but there’s no telling why. It’s not like I’m the one who brought a date. He did. I’m the one who should be hurting. I have every right to. He glances from Faith to me, then back down to her as if he doesn’t know where he wants to look more.
Faith decides for him. She reaches out for him, mumbling her usual baby gibberish, but it’s her last words. That last babble has my chest cracking wide open. My breath catches, and tears pool in my eyes.
“Dada.”
She reaches out for Callan, and I realize what he is to her. He’s the man who’s been there for almost every pivotal moment, and now he’s going to be out of our lives. Callan’s nostrils flare, and he looks like he’s battling something. Battling the same thing as I am. Battling the realization that my daughter thinks he’s her father.
I don’t know how to feel other than heartbroken. Completely and utterly heartbroken.
“Sorry to intrude, but Rosalind needs your help,” Caroline cuts in. She rests her hand against my lower back, and it’s like she’s holding me up when I feel like I’m on the verge of crumpling. I nod, giving her a silent thanks, and I leave Callan and his date behind.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
She rubs my back. “I know, baby. Don’t thank me.”
The rehearsal dinner goes on without a hitch. It’s tough, forcing myself not to look near Callan or his date’s way, but somehow, I manage. Until it’s time for the rehearsal portion, that is.
Caroline gathers us all, and we line up just like we’re supposed to on the day of the wedding. Damon’s best man pairs with his wife, and I’m paired up with Callan. I watch as Damon’s parents link arms, then Caroline and Nicholas. I feel him step up beside me. I don’t look at him. Instead, I take his outstretched arm and lock our elbows together.
The warmth of his body flows through me. An awkward silence stretches between us, and as we wait for a few paces behind everyone else, all of us separated accordingly, it feels like forever.
We start to move, and it feels like he’s the only thing holding me up. The anchor keeping me from drifting away.
“Daisy, I—”
Just hearing his voice, hearing my name, has pain ricocheting through me. It’s a little too soon to do so, as we still have a few more feet until we’re supposed to separate, but I disentangle from him and walk to my perch. I feel everyone’s eyes on me, questioning me. I don’t pay them any mind. I just stare straight ahead at my best friend.
Sympathy fills Rose’s eyes, and she smiles sadly. I shake my head minutely. She doesn’t need to worry about me. This is her week. Not even I will get in the way of her happiness.
My broken heart can wait a little while longer to be mended.
She deserves this.
Live every day, every moment.
That’s a motto I’ve tried to live by since I left California. Without Daisy by my side, it wasn’t always easy. I didn’t want to live every day and every moment without her.
Our lives are made up of moments. Not all of those moments can be perfect, but they’re all there for a greater purpose—to create the bigger picture. It’s at this moment that I realize my life has consisted of a myriad of mistakes.
I fell in love with my best friend.
I loved her so fiercely that it left room for nothing else.
I loved her enough that I was willing to let her go.
I’ve spent years watching from afar, and that love never waned. Instead, it festered, and over the years, I convinced myself it was hate. I tried to taint that love with anger.
I should’ve known that wouldn’t work. Not with her.
That girl has been the center of my universe ever since the moment I first laid eyes on her. With a strawberry popsicle staining her lips, she trotted across her lawn into ours, jumping into an easy camaraderie with my sister. I watched her closely, the way her cheeks hiked up when she smiled, brightening her eyes. The way her eyes grew round and panicked when she couldn’t breathe. The way her lips became swollen because she was allergic to strawberries. All I felt while watching her was a fierce need to protect.
Before running across our lawns, I called for help, and as I settled next to her on the grass, I held her hand in mine, silently telling her she’d be okay. I didn’t realize at the time that my protective streak would never dissipate. Those feelings of friendship would twist, turning into something else altogether.
It would turn into love. A blinding sensation that turned men into fools.
Miraculously, I never thought I’d be able to love anyone as much as her. But then she came along with her big doe eyes, beautiful face, and toothless smile. She changed everything.
Faith stole my heart.
Her mother stole my heart.
And at this moment, as I watch my mom help Faith walk down the aisle, tossing flower petals from her little basket, I can’t ignore the pain ricocheting through my chest. It only burns brighter, harder, and more painful when I see her.
Her hair is curled in these beautiful dark brown waves that cascade around her shoulders. A section is pinned up and clipped with a flower. Her dress is an off-the-shoulder satin coral color that looks like perfection on her. It hugs her curves and has me itching to reach out and pull her into my arms. Her cheeks are rosy, either with happiness or due to the heat. There’s a certain innocence about her that I have a hard time looking away from. I always have.
The past two months without her or Faith have been hell. I haven’t slept. I can’t concentrate at work. All I can think about is them. It doesn’t help matters that she hasn’t answered any of my calls or emails.
When it’s our turn to line up to walk down the aisle, her body visibly tenses. I get in place, arm out, waiting for the moment her body connects with mine again, even if it’s just the slightest of touches.
Daisy’s slender throat works a thick swallow, and I watch as she pulls her shoulders back, encasing herself in a steel wall of protection. I smile internally at her strength. She struts toward me, and without a word, she takes my offered arm and keeps her gaze trained ahead.
Her scent drifts toward me. Intermingled with the fresh scent of the ocean, she smells just as I knew she would, like something floral and wild. Something inherently sweet. Just like her.
“You look beautiful.”
At the sound of my voice, she stiffens. I feel her muscles tense, and I swear she even sucks in a sharp breath. She rubs her lips together, still ignoring me, and it makes me smile sadly.
“Faith does, too.”
Her eyes slam shut at that. Her nostrils flare, and she visibly deflates.
Finally, Daisy spares me a glance, and when our eyes meet, a current travels through my system. It vibrates down my spine. She must feel it, too. She has to.
A long stretch of time passes between us, with her staring up at me and me looking down at her. I have to fight the urge to wrap my hand around her slender neck and draw her into me like I’ve done so many times before. Of their own accord, my eyes settle on her plump lips, and I almost risk it all.
Almost.
“Thank you,” she croaks. Her face splits into a wince, and she clears her throat. “You look nice, too.”
The guys from the wedding party aren’t dressed in anything special. Rosalind wanted us all to wear khaki suits with a white button-up and a peach rose tucked in our breast pocket.
When it’s our cue to walk, I tighten my hold on Daisy and lead the way. She’s never liked the attention, and when I glance down at her, I see today is no different. A blush stains her cheeks as she darts her gaze around, avoiding the probing stares.
When we reach Damon at the floral altar, I prepare myself for the loss of her touch. When it happens, I’m sti
ll left bereft.
Throughout the rest of the ceremony, I keep my gaze glued to Daisy. She watches my sister get married with a huge smile on her face, eyes brimming with tears. Up here, in front of family and friends, it makes me wonder what her previous wedding was like. How beautiful she would’ve looked walking down the aisle.
Dean was one lucky son of a bitch.
I go through the motions. Smiling when I’m supposed to, wearing the expression of a loving brother, but I’m really thinking about Daisy and just how much I miss her. Just how much I need her back in my life.
My sister makes sure that Daisy and I are separated during pictures to avoid any awkwardness. When the reception rolls around, Daisy and Faith are passed around, the center of everyone’s attention after my mother spilled the beans about her art showing. I love the way pride shines in her eyes when she gets a congratulatory hug or someone tells her how amazing it is that her work has not only been featured in a gallery but purchased.
I’m at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch, when someone clears their throat next to me. I look down at Emilia, my new assistant. She’s a sweet girl, a little rough around the edges at times, but she does her job, and she does it well, so I can’t really complain. Though, she has nothing on my last assistant.
“Is that her?”
I follow the trajectory of her gaze and swallow. She’s looking directly at Daisy. My lips thin when I realize who she’s talking to.
Fucking Jeremy. The bastard.
“She’s beautiful,” she murmurs, not waiting for me to answer.
I throw back my scotch and roll my eyes. “I’m not paying you to have an opinion, Miss Thorne.”
“But you are paying me to be your assistant, and as your assistant, I suggest you talk to her before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.”
Emilia shakes her head. “It’s never too late, Mr. Reed.”
“What the hell do you know, anyway?” I snap.
“I know a miserable man in love when I see one.” With that, she walks off, leaving me to my own devices. I drag my gaze around the open expanse of the balcony that overlooks the water. Off to the side, I spot my mom holding someone, and a slight smile tips the corners of my lips.
