and pulled her close. “Don’t say that. You’re way prettier than him and thinner. Jordan’s lucky to have you. I’m sorry he’s being a shithead.”
“Me, too. You were smart. You loved him first, before he learned how to break my heart. He never loved me.”
“That’s not true. He loves you very much. He’s just going through some stuff and it’s messing with his head.” At least she hoped that was all it was.
Daisy finished her drink in one long swallow, then poured another—heavy on the vodka.
She drank half of that before looking at Sage.
“Thanks for coming over. That’s really nice of you. It’s better now, you and me. Being friends, I mean.”
“It is.”
“I wish it could have been this way before.” She waved her free hand. “Not the Jordan part, but the us part.” She pushed the album onto the floor, then angled toward Sage. “I tried a bunch of times. I reached out to you. I wanted us to be friends and sisters.”
Sage’s guilt was instant. “I know you did.”
Daisy’s eyebrows shot up. “You did? But why didn’t you want that, too? Why did you hate me?”
“A lot of reasons. I was scared. My mom didn’t want us to get along.”
“I know she resented me.” Daisy’s lower lip trembled. “I wanted her to be my mom and she wouldn’t even like me. I was just a little girl. She was so mean.”
Sage braced herself for more tears, but Daisy surprised her by shaking them off.
“Why were you scared?” Daisy asked.
Sage smiled. “Have you seen this house? It’s huge. Our little apartment was crappy, but at least it was familiar. One day she married Wallace and the next we were moving. My mom was excited, but I didn’t want to leave my friends or my school.”
She felt the shame of that time. “They held me back. I was humiliated.”
“I don’t remember that,” Daisy admitted. “I know it happened, but we were in different classes, so I wasn’t a part of it.”
“You were so smart and all the teachers adored you. Plus, you know, your dad.”
Daisy swayed slightly as she frowned. “What about my dad?”
“You were his best girl.” Sage did her best not to sound bitter. “He practically worshiped you and while he was great to me, it wasn’t the same. I would look at how he treated you and how my mom treated me and I would get mad.” She sucked in a breath and risked the truth. “It was easier to hate you than be angry with the person who was actually doing the damage.”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “Your mom?”
“That would be her.” Sage picked up her drink. “It doesn’t matter. It was all a long time ago.”
Daisy grabbed her hand. “It does matter. You’re still in pain—I can feel it. Oh, Sage, I should have tried harder.” The tears returned. “I gave up on you.”
“Daisy, we were children. You have no responsibility for what happened. You tried to be my friend over and over again, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry. It would have been better for both of us to get along. Plus you had such great toys,” she added, trying to lighten the mood.
“What toys? What are you talking about?”
“Mine were sad, worn little things, while you had an entire playroom filled with books and games and dolls. It was like living in a toy store.”
“I would have given them all up for us to be sisters.”
Daisy was drunk enough that lying would be a problem, which meant Sage had no option but to believe her. How would their lives have been different if they’d figured out how to be friends? If Joanne hadn’t come between them so many times they’d stopped trying?
“You’re sweet,” Sage told her. There was no going back. They were stuck in their muddled present.
Daisy surprised her by giggling. “At least you’ll always have Paris.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll always have Paris. You know, from the movie.” Daisy drained her drink. “Casablanca.”
“I never saw that.”
“What? You have to see it. It’s beautiful and sad.” She paused. “I think I have to throw up.”
Sage guided her to the massive bathroom. Sure enough, Daisy threw up everything in her stomach. When she was done, she leaned against the toilet, her eyes closed.
“I want to die.”
“And yet you won’t,” Sage told her, putting a cool washcloth on the back of her neck. “Are you done or do you need to throw up again?”