The Pact (Winslow Brothers #2)(85)

“Huh?”

“I gotta go, Rem,” I say and snag my keys, phone, and wallet from where I left them on the kitchen counter. My mind is made up, and there isn’t a damn thing anyone can do to stop me.

“Go? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Lock up when you leave.”

And that’s the last thing I say to my eldest brother before the door of my apartment slams shut behind me.





Daisy

I’m alone in the bathtub in my hotel room, and about twenty pregnancy tests are scattered along the edge of the tub and the floor and the sink like some kind of pregnancy-obsessed hoarder lives here.

And every single one of them tells me the same thing—Pregnant.

Holy fucking shit.

I’m pregnant, my immigration interview is tomorrow, and mere hours ago, I lost my ever-loving shit and told my fake-husband/real-baby-daddy that I’m done and moving back to Canada.

If this weren’t my actual life, I’d probably think it was a joke and have a good laugh about it.

But all I can do is sob.

Big fat tears stream down my cheeks, and I just stare at the grout work of the tiles and wonder how in the hell I managed to get here.

Eventually, I find the will to get out of the tub and tip-toe past the pregnant evidence. Once I pace a little in front of the flat-screen TV, I grab my phone out of my purse and tap the screen to check for notifications. But when I realize I must have turned it off after I panicked over Dr. Fields’s big news, I turn on the damn thing and decide that I need to call the two people who might be able to help me sort all of this out.

The screen comes to life quickly, but I’m immediately hit with a low battery notification. I rummage in my purse for my charger, but I quickly realize it’s not with me; it’s at Flynn’s apartment.

Son of a bitch! Can’t anything go right tonight?

Hopeful that I have enough juice to at least make this call, I get Gwen on the line first, then Damien, until we’re all sitting on a three-way FaceTime.

It’s late—very late, actually, even for West Coast time—but there’s no complaint about it because the second they both spot my splotchy, tear-stained face, their reactions are basically the same.

“Daisy? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my God, doll. Are you okay?”

“I have something I need to tell you,” I say, biting the bullet of truth through a shaky voice. “I’ve lied to you both.”

“What are you talking about?” Damien questions, and Gwen tilts her head to the side.

“Lied about what, darling?”

I stare at them, the words not coming as easily as I’d like.

“Daisy?” Gwen questions gently. “You know you can tell me anything and I won’t be mad.”

Her kind words are my undoing.

“I didn’t marry Flynn because we were in love!” I burst out in a rush. “I married him because my US work visa expired, and he offered to help me get a green card! And now everything is fucked, and I left him because the lies became too much and I was feeling too much and I shouldn’t have been feeling too much because it’s all fake, and now I’m going to have to move back to Canada without a job and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anymore! It’s like I’m purposely trying to destroy it!”

Gwen’s eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“You did what?” Damien’s chiseled jaw turns to jelly. “You married Flynn for a green card?”

I nod and swipe my hand across my face to clear my blurred vision. “It’s why I’m in New York. We had to show proof of living together for Immigration.”

“Well, this is certainly some news,” Gwen mutters.

“You should’ve told me, Daisy,” Damien states, and his lips turn down at the corners. “I could’ve helped you. I mean, I’m sure there was another work-around for an expired visa that didn’t include marrying a stranger.”

I grimace through more tears.

But even if you could go back in time, you still wouldn’t change any of it.

The realization hits me straight in the chest, and I have to swallow back another onslaught of tears. Though, it only half works. I’m still crying, just not sobbing like my hiccuping lungs and shaky throat would prefer.

“Damn, doll, when you go, you go all the way, don’t you?” Damien questions rhetorically. “So…you married Flynn, but now, you’re not with Flynn? Did I get that right?”

I nod and rub an irritated hand down my face. “Tonight, at Flynn’s brother Jude’s rehearsal dinner, I lost it. I stormed out and we had a big fight in the street, and I told him I couldn’t do it anymore.”

And then you booked a hotel room, found out you’re pregnant, and took twenty tests just to verify.

Internally, I cringe. And I decide right then and there that even though I’m done with the lies, I can’t tell them the full truth. I can’t tell them I’m pregnant before Flynn knows I’m pregnant.

That would feel completely wrong.

“Why did you do that?” Gwen asks in her always-comforting tone.

I shrug. Sniffle. “I don’t know what came over me. But I guess the guilt of what we were doing, and the lies we’ve been telling everyone, reached a breaking point I couldn’t handle. I just couldn’t keep living the lie. I couldn’t keep acting like we were this happy couple in front of his family when, deep down, I knew it would all come to a crashing end soon.”