DENIAL

DENIAL


Andrew's Pov

No.

I don't believe it.

I stand, getting out of bed to the window, looking out into the lit quietness of my home. I stand there for a while, even when I start to get a little chilly. I need to cool down anyway.

I know Daphne. She's reserved but when she's happy her personality shines through so I've seen it quite a few times. She's never lied to me, she's not a liar.

I stare up at the moon, round in its fullness. And I know I haven't known her for long, but that first night we spent together told me a lot and she really deviated from that.

Besides, you can't judge your relationship with someone on the number of years you've known them. Take Angel for a second example. Although there are more things to find out, I know that woman. I know what she can and can't do.

Daphne wouldn't do this.

I can hear the shuffling of feet ever so often from my guards down below. I've put Ian in charge of the new hires from my last brush with death and I haven't heard any complaints from either party. Some of them are down there right now, after they passed a thorough screening.

At this moment, because I feel mine teetering on its axis, I wonder how their personal lives are going.

Daphne doesn't have a sister, it's not possible. Was she born yesterday? There are no records of her, no pictures that include or even allude to a fourth member of the family. It can't be real. It isn't. The Patterson's are a family of three.

But she said it herself.

The thought squeezes through the bars of the cage I muscled it into, zooming around my head. I try to force it away again, but I can't just seem to.

Maybe I should pay the PI to confirm it. I mean, stranger things have happened.

This could be why I’ve never truly, when I actually admit it to myself, felt a hundred percent with her. It's like I’m almost there, the tip of my tongue tasting what I felt that night and not quite getting the whole thing. It feels like I'm close to it, adjacent.

But that could also be a case of me glamorising my memories. That must definitely be it. I've put all this unrealistic pressure on her. I'm working on it.

And, just entertaining the thought for a moment, what if Daphne is the right sister for and they had a reason to keep her away?

What if they were trying to protect Daphne? Maybe this other woman was quarantined, and has been for a long time because of some disease. Or she could be a violent person when things don't go her way and they just didn't want all that messiness? What if she's a murderer?

I shake my head, turning away from the window. What am I thinking? That there's the existence of a whole human being nobody knows of, one that I've assigned the personality of a criminal?

I allow myself a chuckle at the absurdity. It's impossible, really. It could be that the PI is mistaken.

She said they were having wine. Sometimes we say things we think are funny but really aren't when we're wine-drunk, as if seen from many socialites.

Also women call each other sisters freely. She might have been talking about a friend, making a joke that she ‘hates’ the woman's hair. Perhaps it was just banter.

The PI didn't say anything about tone. Or maybe she did notice and decided to still tell me about it anyway, trying to create a job for herself.

Because can you imagine it?

A whole nother Patterson Heiress.

I shut the window because my nose is getting a little clogged from the wind. I make my way over to the bathroom to splash some warm water on my face. Plus my fingers feel like they're an hour from frostbite so the water also helps me.

If there is, I can't help but think, then that would be such a big fat. . . lie.

They were all there that day, looking me in the eyes and lying straight to my face. No, they must understand the levels of disrespect that would reach.

It would mean they took me for some sort of a fool. They picked the Patterson daughter they wanted and thrust her into my lap, with no regards for me. Because that's my life they'd be playing with, the woman I'd marry and someday bear my children.

And even if Daphne is the woman from that night. . . I fucking asked them if they had another daughter and they said no.

They said no. Their word is supposed to be their bond and I hate when my trust is broken.

I was beating myself up on hiring a PI for something that Daphne herself said was a harmless secret. But it could be that they were hiding a whole sister.

The water clears my nose and I sigh, meeting my eyes in the mirror. My wet brows are furrowed, something I didn't even notice and I smile, smoothening them out. This is nothing to be puzzled about.

Because even if there was, even if this mysterious second child exists, they wouldn't do that.

She would still be their child. What would they gain for betraying my trust that way? She'd still be their daughter, she'd still be joining both our families together.

I get back into my bed. I stare at the phone, still where I dropped it for a long time. Then I make a decision and pick it up.

I want to find out the truth.

And when it comes out that Daphne is indeed their only daughter, I'll admit what I did and ask for her forgiveness.

But I just need to settle my mind. I haven't gotten this far in
life by dismissing my instincts, even if they do end up being wrong sometimes.