despair and the prickling of awareness and wholly useless desire she always felt faced with Alexandros Antonides. Still. Damn it. “You’re insane.”
He put the cat down again and looked at her quizzically. “Insane? Why?”
“You can’t make a decision like that in a few weeks’ time!”
“Why not? She’s what I want.”
“But are you what she wants?” Daisy didn’t know why she was asking that. Didn’t know why she was arguing with him.
“That’s her problem.”
“Yours, too.” She couldn’t seem to help herself. “If you get married without knowing each other well, without thinking things through—”
“I could end up like you did?”
Daisy rocked with the punch of his words. “What?”
“That isn’t why your marriage didn’t work?”
“No, of course it isn’t!” Daisy felt the heat of his accusation. But she denied it, and it wasn’t a lie, either. “And we’re not discussing my marriage.” She wrapped her arms across her chest, as if they would defend her. Fat chance.
“Why didn’t it, then?” he persisted.
“This is not about me!”
He raised his brows. “Maybe I’m trying to learn from your mistake.”
“You and I are not likely to make the same mistakes.”
Alex shrugged. “How will I know if you don’t tell me?”
“I’m not going to tell you, Alex! My marriage is none of your business.” She shoved away from the door and jerked it open. “I think you should go.”
But Alex didn’t go anywhere. On the contrary, he turned and flopped down into one of the armchairs, settling in, folding his arms behind his head. “Not yet. I want to hear why I shouldn’t pop the question.”
Daisy wanted to strangle him. But the quickest way to get him out of her life was to answer his questions. So she did. “Because,” she said slowly and with the articulation of an elocution teacher, “you don’t want to get a divorce. Do you?” she challenged him. “Maybe you don’t care whether you do or not because you won’t care about her.”
“I don’t want a divorce,” he said evenly. The green eyes glinted.
Daisy shrugged. “Fine. Then take your time. Make sure you’re on the same page. That you want the same things. That … Oh, hell, why am I telling you this? You don’t understand!”
He cocked his head. “Weren’t you on the same page, Daisy?” He sounded almost sympathetic now.
She pressed her lips together and didn’t answer.
He gave her a little half smile. “Are you going to marry again?”
“I doubt it.” She turned away, then turned back and shrugged. “Maybe someday. It depends.”
“On?”
“On whether or not I’m in love with him.”
Alex’s jaw clenched.
Daisy smiled. It was a painful smile, hard-earned. “Yes, love. Still. I want the whole package, Alex. Now more than ever.”
Alex didn’t move. A muscle ticking in his temple was the only betrayal of anything beyond casual interest in what she had to say. Then, with studied nonchalance, he rose slowly. “I wish you the joy of it then.”
“And I you,” Daisy said automatically.
He gave her a sardonic look.
“No, truly.” She almost put a hand on his arm as he passed. But then she laced her fingers together instead. Still, she looked up at him earnestly. “I mean it, Alex. You deserve a wonderful life. I hope … Caroline is the right woman for you. I hope she gives you what you want.”
He had stopped and was standing now, quite close. She kept her gaze on the rise and fall of his chest, knew that she could reach out and touch him. Knew she should back away. But she didn’t. She stayed quite still and met his gaze. “Regardless of what you think, marriage is more than you expect. You should … take your time, get to know this … woman you’re considering marrying. Make sure it’s right for both of you.”
Alex stood staring at her as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.
Daisy couldn’t believe them, either. It wasn’t any of her business. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. And maybe she did owe him the benefit of her experience with Cal. Certainly it had taught her something.
“No matter what you think you want out of marriage,” she finished, “it can surprise you. You shouldn’t take it lightly.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed further, and she expected he would tell her to mind her own business. But his jaw just tightened again, then he nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Their gazes locked—all the electricity flowing through New York City at that moment had nothing on what arced between them.
Then, carefully, consciously, Daisy swallowed. “Have a good life, Alex.”
For a long moment he didn’t reply, and she couldn’t read his gaze. Then he said flatly, “I will. Shall I invite you to the wedding?”
No! It was her gut-level response. But she squelched it. “When you’re sure she’s the right one,” she said slowly, “I would be delighted to come.”
Alex’s lips pressed together in a thin line. He nodded, then walked past her wordlessly out the door.
She closed it after him, leaned back against it, knees wobbling. Only after the sound of his footsteps had long faded away, did Daisy breathe again.
Moving on.
That’s what her father always used to say when Daisy or her sister got all wrought up about something they could do nothing about. He’d listen to them anguishing for, oh, maybe thirty minutes, and then he’d say, “Can you do anything about it?”
They’d say, “No.”
And he’d flash them his sunny grin and say, “So … moving on …”
He didn’t mean, get over it. He meant, stop dwelling on it. Get past it.
You might still ache with disappointment. You might remember it forever. But you’d done all you could do. Now it was time to pull up your socks and move on.
Daisy moved on.
She still thought about Alex. How could she not? She had loved him once. He was the father of her child, even if he didn’t know it. She owed him for that—for Charlie. And she wished things could have been different.
