Page 71 of Sixty Days Of Summer

“Of course, the dickhead can,” Theo chimes in, his tone echoing that same unwavering belief.

Kit pulls out her phone, dials a number, and raises it to her ear, her expression serious as she prepares for the conversation. “Neil, have you got eyes on Daisy?” she asks. Her gaze shifts to Ace, whose grip on my hand tightens as if he’s bracing himself for what’s about to happen. “Yeah, bring her to the green room, please.”

Chapter 25

Ace

Ihave to remind myself to breathe as the reality of facing my sister again after all these years sinks in. I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m supposed to say to her, or what she thinks she can say to make any of this shit better. But here we are.

Kit’s standing beside me, watching closely, along with Xander and Theo, but the words coming out of their mouths fall on deaf ears. My mind’s too fucked up to process what they’re talking about. Instead, I zero in on the one thing that's keeping me grounded—the soft touch of Scarlet’s hand holding mine.

When Xander gives my shoulder a squeeze, I finally lift my head. He steps aside, Theo close behind, and without saying aword, they both quietly leave the room, giving me the space I need to face this.

A knock on the door sends my heart racing, and Kit moves to open it before I can even brace myself. The door opens and there she is—Daisy. She looks older, sure, but the face is the same. Her smile wavers, and her eyes are already wet, glistening with unshed tears. She still looks like the sister I remember, still as pretty, but all I can feel is the heavy reminder of what she did—leaving me to deal with everything alone when she bailed. That wound. It’s still wide open, and letting go feels damn near impossible.

“Ace,” she says, her voice wavering as she moves toward me, but she freezes when I push up off the table. She looks unsure, like she doesn’t know if she should come any closer. Honestly, I don’t know either. Right now, all I can think about is the regret of not having more to drink.

A tear rolls down her cheek, and she hastily wipes it away, her hands trembling. I can see this is tearing her apart, too, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me. Standing here after all these years, after everything that’s happened. The pain resurfaces, raw and fresh, mixing with anger and confusion, and I can’t shake the feeling that nothing can really fix the broken bond between us.

“Why now? Why do you want anything to do with me now?” My voice cracks, the words raw and spilling out like a dam breaking. Every bit of pain and confusion I’ve buried over the years surges to the surface. “You didn’t give a shit back then, so why now?” My voice trembles, heavy with the weight of all those years spent wondering where she was, and why she disappeared. She was everything to me—my big sister, the person I looked up to. And then, out of nowhere, she vanished, leaving me to face hell alone. To deal with the aftermath, to pick up the brokenpieces she left behind. Anger flares in me, as sharp as ever, and I feel that familiar sting of betrayal all over again.

She looks down at her hands, cupping them together like she’s holding onto something fragile, something precious. “I know I did, Ace, and I’m sorry. It’s been the biggest regret of my life.” Her voice trembles as she meets my gaze, and I can see the pain etched on her face. The stray tear that trickles down her cheek seems to pull at my heart, as if they’re dragging my own emotions to the surface.

I let go of Scarlet’s hand and sit down in one of the couches. I have no clue what anyone expects from this meeting. Maybe they think I’m gonna blow up at Daisy, finally unload all the shit I’ve been carrying for years. But as I look at her now—broken, vulnerable, carrying her own weight of regrets—it hits me that maybe it wasn’t as simple as I’d convinced myself. The anger that’s been smoldering inside me all this time. It suddenly feels…hollow, like it doesn’t have the fuel I thought it did.

“Come sit down,” I say, gesturing to the end of the couch. The words come out rough, but I try to keep my voice steady. It’s the least I can do to give her a chance to explain herself.

As she moves over to take a seat next to me on the couch, Kit quietly slips out the door, giving us some much-needed privacy. Across the room, I catch Scarlet’s gaze; she tilts her head towards the door, silently asking if I want her to leave too. I give a small shake of my head—she doesn’t need to go. I need her support to help me navigate this mess, even if it’s just having someone I trust by my side.

“I’m so sorry, Ace,” Daisy says, taking a seat on the couch. Her voice is thick with emotion, making it hard for me to listen to. “I never reached out to you because I didn’t want you to think it was only because of your fame.” She wipes her tears with trembling fingers, and seeing her like this hits me hard. It’spainful to watch someone I once put on a pedestal looking so broken.

“Can I ask why you left?” I finally manage to say, struggling to keep the hurt from overtaking me.

Her gaze locks onto mine, brimming with guilt and pain that’s impossible to ignore. “The guys she’d bring home,” she begins, her voice trembling as she searches for the right words, like she’s sifting through a pile of broken glass, “the way they’d look at me... it was like…” She trails off, eyes squeezing shut as if the memory itself is too sharp to handle. I feel the weight of what she’s trying to say, the words unspoken yet hitting with brutal clarity.

I reach out and take her hand, hoping to offer some support, something to ease the heaviness in the room. When she opens her eyes at my touch, the vulnerability I see in them makes my chest ache. It’s a look I never want to see on her face again.

“I’d lock my room every night,” she continues, her voice trembling. “Remember when you used to sleep on the floor beside my bed? I did that because I was scared, Ace. I wanted to protect us from what was happening.”

The memories rush back—how she used to look after me, always my protector when I was younger. Hearing her now, revealing the hurt she hid behind that role, hits me in a way I’m not prepared for. It’s like the past and present are colliding, old memories woven through the rawness of our pain, stirring up a storm of emotions I can barely hold back.

“When our mother passed out on the couch,” she begins, her voice cracking, “one of her boyfriends was in my room when I walked in. I knew right then after what he did to me, I had to get out of that house.”

She takes a deep breath, and I gently run my thumb over the back of her hand, hoping to offer some comfort. Her confession adds a layer of understanding I hadn’t considered before,twisting the knife of guilt deeper into my gut, making me angry that she had to go through that.

“There was no way I could take you with me,” she continues, her voice unsteady as she fights to maintain her composure. “I had no idea where I was going. I lived on the streets for the first year, Ace. I had every intention of coming back for you, but…” She sniffs, her tears falling freely. “But I never did. I’m so sorry.”

I glance over at Scarlet, who’s wiping her own tears away, and it hits me hard: all this time, I thought my sister had just abandoned me without a second thought. But now, seeing her like this—broken and raw—I finally understand that she loved me just as much as I loved her.

She’s not to blame for any of this. The real blame falls on our mother. The one who put us both through this nightmare. I want to forgive Daisy—for the pain I thought she caused, for the years I felt abandoned.

“It’s not your fault, Daisy. It’s our mother’s,” I say, the anger simmering, just beneath the surface, as I think about the wreckage she left behind. She exploited her own bullshit story, making herself the victim while leaving us to deal with the fallout. She left us with scars that run deep, that cut in ways no one else will ever understand.

I shift in the seat, moving closer to hug her—something I never do. But right now, it feels like it’s the only thing that makes sense. Like I need to shield her from everything we’ve been through. It’s not just for her, though; it’s for me too. A way of silently saying she’s not to blame. She never was, no matter how much we’ve both been broken by all the shit we’ve carried.

When I finally pull back, Daisy looks up at me, and I see my own eyes reflected in hers. That same haunted look I’ve seen in the mirror too many times.

“I want to set the record straight, Ace,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, sniffling as she wipes away the last of hertears. “I want to tell everyone the truth—that all those stories our mother spins are pure bullshit. She’s just trying to profit off your fame. Let me do this for you. I know I walked away, and I never came back to get you. But let me fix it now. Let me make it right.”

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