Chapter 24: The Lie (Daniel POV)
Chapter 24: The Lie (Daniel POV)
I sit at the long table, the chatter of Rita’s family loud in my ears. The dining room’s big, all wood and warm light, with plates of food spread out in front of us. Roast chicken, potatoes, some green stuff I don’t touch. Rita’s next to me, her hand resting near mine on the tablecloth, close but not touching. She’s smiling, her hair neat, her dress a soft pink. Everyone’s happy, talking over each other, forks clinking on plates. I try to smile too, but it feels fake, stiff on my face. Her dad stands up at the head of the table, a glass of wine in his hand, his voice booming. “To Rita and Daniel,” he says, grinning wide. “To their engagement and a bright future!” The room cheers, glasses raised, and I lift mine, slow, my hand heavy.
I take a sip, the wine sharp and bitter, and it sticks in my throat. I choke it down, setting the glass back on the table. Rita’s mom leans over, her eyes bright. “We’re so glad you’re joining the family,” she says, patting my arm. I nod, force another smile. “Thanks,” I say, my voice quiet. Rita’s dad keeps talking, something about wedding plans, but I don’t hear the words. I hear Leo’s laugh instead, loud and rough, the way it filled his apartment when we’d sit on that sagging mattress. Not this polite noise, not this table. I pick up the wine again, take a bigger drink, trying to push him out of my head. It doesn’t work.
Rita’s brother, a guy with a loud laugh, starts telling a story about her as a kid. She blushes, nudges me with her elbow. “He’s making it up,” she says, laughing a little. I nod, try to laugh too, but it comes out weak. Her dad sits down, still grinning, and claps me on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky man, Daniel,” he says. “My girl’s one of a kind.” I look at Rita, her smile soft and warm, and feel nothing. “Yeah,” I say, looking back at my plate. “Lucky.” The word tastes wrong, like a lie I’m choking on. I push the food around with my fork, not eating, my stomach tight.
The room’s warm, too warm, and the voices blend into a hum. I sip the wine again, my hand shaky on the glass. Leo’s laugh keeps playing in my mind, over and over, louder than the talk around me. I see his face, paint on his cheeks, his eyes bright when he’d look at me. Not here, not with these people. Rita’s mom asks me something, maybe about work, but I don’t catch it. “Sorry, what?” I say, blinking at her. She smiles, repeats it. “How’s the company going?” I shrug, set the glass down. “Fine,” I say. “Busy.” She nods, satisfied, and turns to Rita’s dad. I lean back in my chair, my chest heavy, wishing I was anywhere else.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, a sharp jolt against my leg. I pull it out, slow, keeping it under the table so no one sees. It’s a text from Claire. My heart jumps, and I open it fast. “Leo’s brother’s in town,” it says. “Rumors he’s breaking down bad. Thought you’d want to know.” My breath stops, just for a second, then rushes back fast. Leo’s breaking down. Jake’s here. I stare at the words, my hand tight on the phone. Claire heard it, probably from Max or someone. He’s a mess because of me. I left him, and now he’s falling apart. My throat closes up, and I shove the phone back in my pocket, my fingers shaking.
Rita’s dad laughs loud, pulling me back to the room. Everyone’s watching him, smiling, but I can’t stay here. “Excuse me,” I say, pushing my chair back. It scrapes loud on the floor, and Rita looks up, surprised. “You okay?” she asks, her voice soft. “Yeah,” I lie, standing up. “Just need some air.” I don’t wait for her to answer. I walk out, fast, through the living room and out the front door. The night’s cool, the air hitting my face sharp and clean. I step onto the porch, my boots loud on the wood, and lean against the railing, breathing hard. My head’s spinning, full of Leo, full of Claire’s text.
I pull my phone out again, my hands unsteady, and find Leo’s number. I shouldn’t call. I know that. But I do it anyway, pressing the button, holding it to my ear. It rings once, then goes straight to voicemail. “This is Leo,” his voice says, rough and tired. “Leave a message.” The beep comes, and I freeze, my mouth dry. He’s not there. His phone’s dead, or off, or smashed. I lower it, slow, staring at the screen as it goes dark. He’s breaking down, and I can’t reach him. My chest hurts, a deep ache I can’t shake, and I grip the railing, my knuckles white.
Footsteps come behind me, soft on the porch. “Daniel?” It’s Rita. I don’t turn, just keep staring out at the dark yard. She steps closer, her hand light on my arm. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice quiet, worried. I swallow hard, my throat tight, and don’t answer. Leo’s voicemail echoes in my head, his laugh still loud over her words.