Page 154 of Bitter Rival

So I have to prove to her that I meant every word I said. And the only way to prove it is by giving her all the time and space that she needs to figure out what she wants.

Ironic, I know.

Giving her up just to prove my love sounds like the opposite of what I should be doing. But to me, it feels like the ultimate sacrifice.

The only way I can show her that she’s so special to me, that her happiness is crucial to my very existence, that I’m prepared to give her up rather than watch her suffer.

No one in her life has ever treated her the way she deserves to be treated, including me. And I don’t want to be just another asshole in her life whose every action is calculated to ensure I get exactly what I want.

I want her to choose me because I make her life better, not worse. But only she can decide that.

The choice is hers and hers alone, and that’s just how it has to be.

And if she doesn’t choose me…then I guess I never deserved her.

I grab the stress ball off my desk and squeeze the shit out of it. “What’s the opposite of hate?” I ask Tara.

She gives me a bright smile and I know what she’s going to say even before the word leaves her mouth. “Love.”

The annoying buzzer goes off in my head. Wrong.

The correct answer is Daisy.

It has always been Daisy.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Daisy

“So you just let him go, huh?” Callie says.

I hold the phone screen up as I skirt a dog walker with four dogs on leashes and make a beeline for my favorite park bench.

The trees are skeletal, a blanket of damp leaves carpeting the ground, and the sky looks especially bleak today. The entire city has been leached of color.

“Yeah.” I chew on my lip. “But he said he’d wait.”

I take a sip of my latte and try to make out what I’m seeing in the background. “Where are you?”

“Walking up and down the lane in front of the winery.”

“I thought I recognized those trees,” I say wistfully.

“He misses you,” she says softly.

Emotion clogs my throat and I have to clear it before I can speak. “Did he tell you that?”

She shakes her head. “He didn’t have to.” Her face brightens. “You should come for our Harvest Feast.”

“I thought the harvest was over.”

“It is. But Beckett’s throwing a party.”

“Scrooge throws parties now?” I joke.

She laughs. “He does. He’s a great boss. He’s hired a lot of new people too.”

“Yeah?”

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