Page 82 of Picking Daisies on Sundays

When his lips met mine, my shoulder deflated, and I tasted our salty tears as he groaned at the contact. He was surprised, hesitating. But it was only a moment before he realized what I had started. And when he reacted, my body relaxed and woke up simultaneously. I had only kissed him once before, but it was enough to know I never wanted to kiss another man again. No one else had compared. I had gone further with other men, and it had never caused my legs to go weak and for my eyes to roll back like the way they did when Levi kissed me. His lips were soft, and they were intentional in how they pressed against mine.

It became a desperate mixture of excess tears and grabbing and kissing. It was as if I took in enough of his air, he could be mine. My hands tugging at his short curls and my nose brushing the side of his nose as I enveloped my lips in the softness of his. Then his hands were on my hips, gripping my waist, claiming my body and pulling it closer. I was pulling at his shirt, somehow trying to pull him closer when there was no more space left between us. Two flowers intertwined because they had grown alongside each other for so long. His hands were drawing maps across my body, wiping any evidence that Ethan had ever touched me.

Ethan.

Lazaro.

I pulled away.

“I’m going to accept the spot in Paris,” I blurt out.

He looked at me in shock. “You’re what?” His lips were maroon, and his cheeks were flushed. His hair was tousled in spots where my fingers had been.

“I didn’t get into Lazaro. I’m going to go to Paris. I’m going to take a chance.” It was as if I was watching myself from afar. Making this wild decision based on one moment. Paris wasn’t the only option, but it felt like it now.

I was so tired of being scared. I was exhausted of thinking I wasn’t good enough.Your designs are fine, nothing special, Ethan’s voice haunted me. If ESMOD thought I was good enough, then I needed to go to Paris and prove I was. Prove it to myself.

“You’re going to leave?” His voice broke. “When?”

Why was I telling him like this? Why was I hurting him when he was already hurt. I wanted to shake myself, but I felt frozen, and I felt numb.

“It wouldn’t be until August.”

“For how long?”

“A year, and then I’d return to New York.”

He looked away, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “A lot of things can happen in a year.”

Tell him you love him, Daniella, tell him before it’s too late.

Tell him that you love him and that you want him to come with you. Tell him how you want to kiss him every day and you want him to twirl the ends of your hair like he did in high school. That you want him to come to Paris with you, and experience love the way the hopeless romantic tourists did.

But…I already knew the answer. He had obligations, responsibilities. He couldn’t leave the girls. Wasn’t that what made him so insecure? How Bella had hurt him for taking care of the girls? I couldn’t ask him that.

Stop being so scar—

I simply nodded.

“I should get you home,” he finished.

I didn’t tell him I didn’t want to be alone right now. Instead, I pushed him away and isolated myself just like I did last time.

37

unkempt flowers because of the sunlight you held in your

faraway heart

Last night was long, to say the least. I skipped Sunday dinner with his family, which meant Levi drove me straight home. Despite our intense, and abrupt, conversation, he held my hand the whole way home. He offered to walk in with me, to help unpack everything to my mom. I said no. I didn’t need Levi to see me cry again.

I did indeed cry again. Not only because of Ethan, but because of Paris, and how I kissed Levi and then hurt him. She was furious about Ethan, tearing up as I explained what happened in as minimal detail as possible. I could see how much it hurt her to know, and I didn’t want this to be another thing that kept her awake at night stressed. But I also couldn’t keep it from her.

“I’m so sorry, honey, I’m so sorry,” she swore as tears rolled down my cheeks.

I shook my head. “It’s not just that. I’m going to go to Paris, I’m going to leave. And then I told Levi, and I made it so much worse,” I cried.

“Wait, slow down. You’re going to go to ESMOD?”