And the way he’s looking at me…
It’s the exact same way he looked at me the last time I saw him.
Hurt mixed with disappointment. And loss. So much loss.
Pain curls like a fist around my heart and squeezes tight.
Jesse sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Hi,” I say softly, my voice not offering much.
He stares blankly at me.
“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make us a drink. Tea or coffee? Or something cold?” Tim asks me.
Taking a seat across from Jesse, I answer Tim, “Coffee would be great. Thanks.”
“Jesse?” Tim asks.
Jesse doesn’t answer. He just shakes his head.
“Right. Well, I won’t be long.”
I watch Tim leave the room.
When I look back, Jesse is still staring at me.
The tension in the air is unnerving.
It makes me sick to my stomach to know the size of the wedge between us.
This is a kid who would talk nonstop to me. A kid who I could sit in perfect silence with and always feel at ease.
Now, it’s almost like sitting with a stranger.
But a stranger I love very much.
My mouth is dry, so I lick my lips before speaking, “You look…so grown-up.”
I watch as his eyes shut down. Shutting me out.
He’s looking at me like Kas looks at me.
Like he hates me.
Pain spikes me in the gut.
“Yeah, well, it’s been eighteen months. I’m not just gonna stop growing ’cause you haven’t been around.”
“I know. I’m sorry—”
“Save it ’cause I don’t want to hear it.” He turns his face away, looking in the direction of the TV. Leaning back, he stretches his long legs out, folding his arms over his chest.
I fight back the tears burning my eyes and take a deep breath. “So…how have you been?” I ask.
He sighs and drags his eyes from the TV and back to me. “You want to make small talk, Daisy? Really?”
Daisy. He always called me Mayday.
Another spike of pain hits me—this time, in the chest. I rub at the ache. “I just want to talk to you, Jesse.”
“Okay, let’s talk.” He swivels around in his seat, hands pressed to his thighs. He looks like he’s roaring for a fight. “How was your time in prison? You learn any new tricks? How long you staying around for? Or should I expect another visit from the cops sometime soon, telling me that you’re going back inside?”
“I-I’m not going back, Jesse. I’m here to stay.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. It hurts to hear.
“Like Mum and Dad?”
“Jesse, please…I’m not like them. You know this. Deep down, you know this. I’ve missed you so much. I just want—”
“I don’t give a shit what you want!” he yells, jumping to his feet. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist anymore!”
Pain punches me square in the chest. I push to my feet. “Jesse, please. Y-you don’t mean that.”
He laughs bitterly. “Yeah, I do.”
“So, why see me today? Why let me come?”
He steps closer. “So, I could do to you what you did to me. You left me, Daisy. You fucking left me on my own. And, now, I’m leaving you. I never want to see you again. Do you hear me? As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a sister. You’re as dead to me as Mum and Dad are.”
I feel like I’ve been shot.
Tears fill my eyes. I can’t help them or stop them from running down my cheeks.
Regret flickers in his eyes, but he quickly shuts it down. “I want you to leave.” His voice is low.
“Je-Jesse, please.” I press the heels of my hands to my cheeks to ebb the flow of tears.
“I said, go!”
His anger hits and shakes my body.
I stumble back, moving for the door.
When I reach it, I turn back. Putting strength in my spine and my voice, I say, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m saying it anyway. I’m going now because you asked me to, and I’m respecting your wishes. But I love you, kiddo. I will always love you. I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay. Never again will I leave you. I will do nothing to risk ever being taken away again. I swear that to you.”
I press my hand to my chest. “I let you down, and it will never happen again. I’m going to prove to you that I mean every word. And I’m going to keep coming back every Saturday and knocking on your door until you decide to let me back in. I won’t give up on you—ever.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” he mutters before turning his back on me.
Pain clamps a strong arm over my chest.
It takes everything in me to pull that door open and walk out of it, leaving him standing there.
Fourteen
Alcohol.
The. Best. Invention. Ever.
Wait…was it invented? Or was it just made?
I don’t know.
And, really, who gives a shit?
Not me—that’s who.
All I give a shit about is that it makes the hurt go away.
Away…away…away.
A few drinks…okay, well, more than a few but less than a lot, and I’m no longer hurting over what Jesse said.
Jesse.
See? Even thinking his name doesn’t hurt like it did an hour ago.
Hurt be gone because Daisy Smith is pain-free!
And it’s the best feeling ever!
I mean, why haven’t I been drinking all along? I’ve been feeling shitty for years, and all that time, I could have been drinking the shitty feelings away.