Page 91 of Ripple Effect

“Mhm.” I lift her arm, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “So . . . you still doin’ okay?”

She sighs, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “I mean, I guess so. Dad didn’t have much to say earlier, did he?”

Treading carefully, I shake my head. “And your mom, did she tell you she’d be gone when we got here?”

She gives me a sad little shrug. “Not a word.”

“That’s frustrating,” I say with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “But you know, we don’t have to spend much time here if you don’t want to. We’ll do the obligatory dinner tomorrow. Other than that, why don’t we just explore on our own?”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” Her eyes light up with gratitude, and she squeezes my hand back. “But I should probably go check in with my sister, Summer. Say hi before we break free.”

“You want me to come?”

“Maybe you could just meet her later?” she suggests. “Who knows what kind of mood she’ll be in.”

“Yeah, do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

She leaves, and I’m alone with my spinning thoughts. The chill of the house, the distance of her parents—it doesn’t make sense. The contrast between them and their vibrant daughter feels like night and day. I wonder, not for the first time, how Daisy came to be who she is amidst such coldness.

And I know, at least for the rest of this trip, that I’m resolved to be her warmth.

* * *

By the timeDaisy finishes up greeting her sister and we’ve unpacked the car, both of us are famished. So, we decide to take a walk around downtown, planning to stop at one of her favorite places for a late lunch.

As we stroll down the cobblestone street, she gives me the low-down on all the shops and restaurants that line our path. She recalls stories of how her family used to hit up the tiny cinema on Christmas Eve, one of her favorite and only holiday traditions.

It’s so nice to see her spirited again, talking a mile a minute as she wanders around town with me. I can tell that this place is special to her, filled with fond memories despite the lack of care from her family.

We eventually come across a small café tucked in between two buildings, its outside walls adorned with bright potted flowers. We take a seat on the wooden patio outside and order hearty sandwiches and some warm tea.

In between sips of her drink, she leans in and asks, “You know what I was just thinking?”

“Tell me.”

“I feel like Bentley should be here.”

“Fuck, I know. Sorta feels like he’s our missing piece.” I glance down at our feet, staring at the spot where he’d usually be nestled, and it feels profoundly empty. “We haven’t been apart more than a day since he moved in with me.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t bring him.”

“It’s not your fault that Summer’s allergic.”

“Yeah, she’s so annoying,” she says, glancing down at her lap, nearly mumbling the words under her breath.

I cock my head to the side, assessing her disappointed frown. “Did she say something else before we left?”

She gives me an apologetic look. “Just something silly about Logan.”

A muscle in my jaw ticks. “What about him?”

“Just that he’s here. That hetextedher.”

I rear back. “What, why? Were they close?”

She shakes her head, her expression troubled. “I don’t think so. But you know those friends I told you about? They don’t know the real reason we broke things off. I’m sure he made it sound like it was all my fault. I mean, for God’s sake, he cheated on me, and somehow, my little sister still took his side.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “You deserve to be supported by your family.”

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