Page 23 of I Saw Her First

“Are you okay?”

She takes a second to compose herself, then lifts her gaze to mine. “Yeah. Sorry, I haven’t done that in…” She shakes her head. “A really long time.”

“You’re a natural.”

An unsteady laugh slides from her lips. “I was. Once.”

I want to ask what she means, why putting film into a camera has caused such a strong reaction, but I sense she doesn’t want to talk about it. Instead, I decide to make her laugh. I wind the film on ready for the first photo and raise the viewfinder to my eye.

“Say cheese.”

Daisy hesitates. I steel myself because this could go one of two ways, but my chest fills with utter delight when she laughs, poking her tongue out in the most childlike way, and I press the shutter.

I stare at the camera, missing the instant gratification that comes with using my phone for pictures. I can’t see how the image will turn out until the film is developed, and that’s okay.

Some things are worth waiting for.

I think of how long it’s taken for me to finally feel okay after losing Lydia. How many months I woke in the dark searching for her beside me, then sobbing into my pillow when I remembered she wasn’t there. I never thought I’d make my peace with that, but slowly I’m learning that my life will go on—that itisgoing on—without her.

Then I think of my son, who refuses to talk to me. Who still blames me for everything, three years later.

“Is Jess okay?” I ask quietly.

Daisy huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. He went out.”

“He what?” I stare at her in disbelief. Jesse brought Daisy all the way up here, then he went outwithouther?

“Yeah.” She traces a pattern on the marble countertop. “I don’t think he was in the mood to hang out.”

“Right,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “And where did he go, exactly?”

“Rex and the boys are having a party or something.”

I try to hide my eye-roll. Fucking Rex again.

“I don’t like him either,” Daisy mutters, and I exhale a grim laugh.

“You caught that, did you?”

“I did.” She’s quiet for a moment, staring at the counter, and I become acutely aware of how close we’re sitting. I’ve never been this close to her, and every cell in my body is hyper-aware. I smell the sweet, citrusy scent she wears, feel the heat from her exposed legs next to mine.

I shake my head, looking away. How the hell could Jess go out tonight when he’s got Daisy at home waiting for him? If she were mine, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself, let alone leave her behind.

And then a second, much worse thought hits me—that she deserves better. I hate to think that about my own son, but Daisydoesdeserve better than this. Better than the way he behaved in front of her at dinner last week, better than him storming off whenever he’s pissed. She deserves a man who treats her like she’s the best thing that ever happened to him—because sheisthe best thing to ever happen to Jess, and he doesn’t have a damn clue.

“I’m sorry about Jess,” I mutter. “He can be temperamental, but you need to know, it’s not about you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she mumbles.

“You’re good for him, Daisy. He won’t talk to me, and his friends are more or less losers, but with you he has a stable, caring relationship. He needs that.”

I don’t miss the way she shrinks at this, staring at her hands.

“And you helped get him a job—” I pause here as something occurs to me. “Wait, how has he managed to get a week of vacation when he’s started a new job?”

Daisy’s brow sinks. “Actually, I don’t know.”

We stare at each other for a beat, and I wonder if we’re thinking the same thing—that he got fired. We both look away atthe same moment, and this time I know she’s feeling the same guilt as I am. I shouldn’t think the worst of my own son, but it’s hard not to, given the past couple of years. Jess has had plenty of time to get his life sorted. I know losing his mom was hard on him—it was hard on me, too—but it would have been so much easier for both of us if he’d only let me in. Since he won’t let me help him, he has to take responsibility for his life on his own, or it will never change.

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