Chase’s posture relaxes. “It’s nothing.”
“So, um… I guess this is goodbye, then.” My heart twists at the thought.
The thread connecting us pulls tight. I sway toward him as he leans down. We move like we’re underwater, slow, with every motion exaggerated in a sea of longing and anticipation. My eyes close. His stubble brushes against my cheek, pinpricks of sensation shooting through me. My lips open a fraction in silent invitation. But his lips brush my cheek instead.
And then…nothing. Only cold air against my skin and a pit of loss in my stomach. My eyes pop open in confusion. He steps away, his face shuttered now.
“Goodbye,” he says. And then, just like that, he walks down my steps and out of my life. Again.
“So, Chase James is your foster brother? You need to explain this. Now!”
I’m sitting in Daisy’s boutique, drinking an extra-large coffee, something I desperately need to get through the day after the all-nighter we pulled at the police station. I’d been right about Daisy not having coffee, so we got to-go cups from Books & Buns.
We’re curled up on a ’70s-era velvet love seat at the back of the shop, surrounded by glamorous dresses. Though it’s 2:00 p.m. on a weekday, Daisy’s store sign reads “Closed” as we sip our coffee.
When Daisy just smiles, I try again. “Chase James is your brother.”
“Yes, of course,” she says with a delicate shrug. She readjusts what I think is a caftan, in a flowing gold-and-white material. Her hair is caught in a loose bun at the top of her head, with wild tendrils escaping and curling down her neck and back.
Her casual glamour makes me feel even more basic in my faded jeans and cozy sweater that’s gotten stretched out and soft from years of washes.
“I’m just having a hard time wrapping my brain around it. How did you fail to tell me that your foster brother is one of the most famous men on the planet?”
Daisy sighs. “I know this is weird. But I’m not used to talking about Chase. You can’t fully understand unless you know the whole story.” She tilts her head, her gaze faraway.
“Well then,” I say expectantly. “Tell me.”
She snaps her head back to me. “Okay,” she says, as if suddenly deciding something. “When I first met Chase, we were just kids. I was only six. He was a few years older than me when he was placed in my parents’ house as my foster brother. I was my parents’ only biological child, but they took in foster kids for the extra money. They should’ve never had any children, let alone foster ones. They were both messed up, both mean drunks and abusive in their own ways, but they were able to play the system for a long time.”
“I’m so sorry, Daisy.” I wish I could take the bad memories away.
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Everything changed for me when Chase came to live with us. I never had a family who cared about me. But the two of us, we became each other’s family. He was my caretaker, my protector. He stole food for me when my mom was passed out and our cupboards were bare. He got me up for school, helped me with my homework, and even made up bedtime stories.”
My stomach does a funny little dance at getting this glimpse into who Chase is. “He sounds like a great big brother,” I say softly.
Her eyes are lost in the past. “He was, as long as he was allowed to be. It was just Chase and me against the world until, one night, a neighbor called the cops during one of my dad’s drunken rages. I broke something, and my dad took his belt to me, hard. He’d been drinking even more at that point. Chase retaliated, and my dad went ballistic, beating him. The cops came and took my dad away. The next day, when I got home from school, Chase was gone. Social services sent him somewhere else.
“My mom moved us in with a boyfriend she’d had on the side. My dad had started beating her more regularly, as well. I remember being distraught because I knew Chase would come back for me, and when he did, he wouldn’t be able to find me. We moved around a lot after that. My mom had a lot of shit boyfriends, and it was more difficult than it had been before, maybe because after having someone to care for me, it was even harder to have no one again.”
Daisy looks at me with a sad smile on her usually sunny face. “Chase was always my brother, even if we weren’t blood.”
“I’m glad you had him.” I cover her hand with mine and squeeze. “You deserved so much more, Daisy.” And in that moment, I’m so grateful for Nanna it hurts. I had her my whole life growing up. Other than those years with Chase, Daisy had no one to love her properly.