Daisy Haites: Chapter 9
“And how’s the rumoured-boyfriend of Hollywood’s darling Vanna Ripley doing this fine evening?” Taura asks as she flops down next to Henry on the couch.
I lift my brows unimpressed but don’t look over at her, just keep playing Halo.
“That good, huh?” Taura gives me a smug smile.
“Yeah, no—” I shrug. “I’m fine, how’s my brother?”
Her face goes still and she presses her tongue into her cheek, squinting. “Dick.”
“Slut,” I fire back.
She shrugs. “Takes one to know one.”
Henry fires the remote at me as hard as he can. Hits me in the head. I glare over at him.
“Oi,” he growls at me, eyes dark. “Take it back.”
“No—” Taura shakes her head. “Don’t. I don’t care—”
“Well, I care,” Henry says, not taking his eyes off me.
“Then stop.” Taura smiles at him gently, pushing her hands through his hair. “Christian’s always been a child with his emotions, and he lashes out when provoked as a way of grappling with his inner turmoil.”
I point at her without looking away from the television. “Not loving this dynamic—”
“Oh no.” Taura rolls her eyes. “Whatever will I do.”
I breathe out of my nose, flick her an annoyed look, pause my game. “Sorry.”
She gives me a little wink.
“Go on then.” Henry nods at me. “What’s this inner turmoil?”
I look back at the television. “There’s no inner turmoil.”
“So Daisy, then?” Taura asks brightly.
I look over at her, annoyed. “No. I haven’t seen her in months.”
“Til a few days ago…” Henry gives me a look.
“What happened a few days ago?” Taus asks, instantly excited.
Henry shrugs. “I don’t know, someone gave her some flowers or something—”
I swear under my breath, toss the controller down, get up and go to the kitchen.
Henry follows me a few seconds later, frowning, confused.
“Is this about someone giving Daisy flowers?”
“No — I — fuck—” I shove my hands through my hair, shaking my head. “Can you just put it in the basket of shit that you’re not going to understand because you’re normal?”
Henry blinks a few times.
“Okay.” He scratches his chin, sensing the mood. “Is she okay?”
I shrug. “I don’t — yeah. I think.”
Henry opens the fridge and tosses me a hazy IPA, gets one for himself. Cracks it open and leans back against the door, watching me for a few seconds.
“Do you love her again?” he asks carefully. We’ve been friends for too long. He can see the answer on my face but I think about lying anyway, almost want to to save some face but don’t really feel like denying her anymore either, not after how we started.
I shrug. “Never stopped.”
Henry stares over at me, silent.
“Fuck—” He breathes out. “I didn’t — shit. But Vanna—”
I roll my eyes. “Is a shitty distraction.”
“Does Daisy — you know—” He doesn’t finish the sentence.
I nod. “I think sh— I don’t know. I thought, but…”
“She’s with the policeman, right?”
I nod.
Henry frowns. “Then…?”
I let out a tired laugh. “There’s a lot of the story you don’t know, man.”
We walk from the kitchen and out onto the patio.
“So tell me.” He shrugs, sitting across from me, but I shake my head.
“You won’t get it.”
“Try me.”
I stare over at him a few seconds, thinking about it. What the hell…
“She shot herself in the stomach to fuck up a job her brother was doing—” Henry’s eyes go wide but I keep going. “They had a massive fight, don’t speak anymore—”
“I know that part.” He nods, trying to keep up.
“Last January, when it happened — she asked me to leave London with her.”
He blinks a few times. “What?”
“She wants out. She doesn’t—” I pause. “What our families do, she doesn’t want to do it.”
“Right.” He nods once.
“She wanted to be normal?” I shrug.
“Okay—”
“And she asked me to go with her and be normal. She said she loved me.” He didn’t know that til now and his face lights up, but mine doesn’t.
“I said I couldn’t go.”
He frowns. “Why?”
I cover my face, stressed. “I don’t know! She put me on the spot—”
“And now—” He squints, doing his best to track it. “Someone’s sending her flowers, you’re with Vanna, she’s with the police, you still love her but we don’t know how she feels about you?”
My face falters and he gives me a look, leaning in intrigued. “Do we… know… how she feels about you?”
I shake my head again. “A few months ago there was an — incident.” That’s the word I go with. “And we held hands… for a couple of seconds.”
“Shit.” Henry sits back in his chair, blinking, processing it. “I wonder if you got her pregnant…”
I give him a look.
“No, I mean it.” He shakes his head. “That is some sexy stuff—”
I kick him under the table as hard as I can and he starts laughing.
“It’s cute. This is cute.” Henry nods, not even trying to hold his amusement together. “Are you going to do something about it?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I want her to be happy. I want her to have her normal life.”