A guttural scream from outside slices Poppy off mid-sentence.
Daisy.
The teacup slips from my hand, and I barely hear it shatter as I rush to the sliding glass door, heaving it open. When I reach the deck railing, Poppy and Lily race up to me.
Below us near the lake, Daisy stands on the long wooden dock with Ryke by her side, their husky sitting at his feet. With her hands balled to fists by her sides, she simply screams into the air. The hairs on my arms rise, her shrilled, pained wail scorching the mountainside.
Ryke is careful not to touch his girlfriend, cautiously watching her expel whatever has burdened her. I force my feet to this place, wanting badly to aid my sister, but I won’t disrupt them this quickly.
Give them twenty minutes, Rose. I wince. Or ten.
“What happened?” Lily asks softly.
“What hasn’t happened?” My tight voice burns my throat. What if it is something new and not just her panic attack from the séance?
Poppy puts her fingers to her lips. “I think he broke up with her.”
Lily’s face scrunches in horror. “No.” She shakes her head repeatedly.
I’d like to think I know Daisy, and I can’t picture her screaming because a guy ended their relationship, even if that guy is Ryke. And if she did want to scream, she’d never do it standing next to him. What I can imagine: Ryke saying, we’re taking a break and then Daisy retreating to her room to cry, alone.
And why in everything that’s beautiful would Ryke stomp on my sister’s heart during a trip? A trip that has a twelve-hour car ride home?
He wouldn’t.
“He didn’t break up with her,” I tell them.
“Are you sure?” Poppy asks.
Lily looks like she might cry. I remember Ryke’s declaration in the kitchen some time ago. About marriage. He wouldn’t end things with her, but there is always the microscopic chance something happened—something I didn’t see in their relationship. They’re just so…private.
“Not one-hundred percent, but I can’t see him doing it, not here.” I cross my arms, struggling to stay on the deck and not hurry to Daisy’s aid.
“I can’t see him doing it at all,” Lily says. “He loves her.”
Poppy twists one of her bangles anxiously. “Not long ago, I told Ryke how important my year break from Sam was for me. Maybe he considered this for Daisy.”
I press my lips together, already knowing about her talk with Ryke. Poppy just finished saying how she wouldn’t meddle in my relationship, but she’s willing to interject herself in Ryke and Daisy’s. I understand though that Poppy just has experience being young and in love, and she relates more to their relationship than mine.
I glance at Poppy. “Ryke told me about your conversation, and he was more pissed than anything.”
Poppy frowns. “Are you sure?”
Daisy screams again, deep from her core, one that rattles her body. My neck pricks. Don’t cry, Rose. I’m the stoic, severe sister that can carry them anywhere, and I can’t be that sister by drowning in tears.
I try to let out a constricted breath. I’m familiar with Daisy’s vibrating scream, only I prefer doing it into my coat. My mind rolls through my childhood and adolescence, and I keep hitting a roadblock that Daisy and I share: our mother, the one who likes to interfere with our relationships.
I slowly turn to Poppy. “Did you talk to anyone other than Ryke about this ‘break’ idea?”
Poppy open and closes her mouth like a dying fish. “I did tell Mother and Father in passing and…”
My eyes flash hot. “And what?”
“She pointed out that I had barely any worldly experiences at eighteen, so it made sense that I’d want to be independent from Sam after prep school. But Daisy has traveled to nearly every continent since she was fourteen. I hadn’t thought of that until she mentioned it.”
I freeze. “She disagreed with you?”
Poppy nods. “A lot, actually. Ever since she threw Ryke in jail, she’s felt guilty. And she felt a little too similar to Sara Hale for her taste, I think.” Our mother hates Ryke’s mother, so comparing them at all must send her into a fit of rage.
It’s hard for me to believe that I agree with my mother on anything, but I’d much rather have her on my side than going rogue.
Lily sniffs, her nose running. “And Dad?”
“He said that they’ve been so committed to each other that it doesn’t make sense for them to break up unless Daisy wants to go to college, but she doesn’t.”
Regardless of our parents, Daisy’s opinion matters most. “Have you talked to Daisy yet?” I ask Poppy.
“No, I just keep forgetting every time I see her.” Poppy covers her mouth, upset, and I hear her curse beneath her breath.
“You didn’t influence him,” I tell her.
“I don’t see how you can be so sure,” she whispers.
Lily stops biting her nails and answers first. “Ryke is one of the most independent thinkers I’ve ever met, and if he did this…then he did it on his own…right, Rose?” Tears well in Lily’s eyes.
“Don’t cry yet. It’s like sobbing at the title screen of a film.”
She sniffs and wipes her eyes. “You cried at the title screen of Titanic.”
“I was pregnant and hormonal,” I rebut and huff. “And I knew the tragedy that was about to ensue. We don’t even know what this is about.” These are my defenses to keep the waterworks at bay, and I share them with her as much as possible. Because if she starts bawling—it’s going to create a domino affect between us all.
I straighten, focusing on the dock. I go utterly silent when Daisy staggers back in exhaustion, her last scream already leaving her lips. She breaks into a sob and her legs buckle beneath her.
Ryke catches Daisy around the waist, holding her securely to his chest, and he collapses on his knees with her wrapped in his arms. She cries into the crook of his shoulder, and his hand disappears in her hair, his lips to her ear as he whispers. His voice is inaudible, but I watch Daisy’s body heave with each sob.
I clutch the railing to keep from bounding down there. And then his eyes flicker up to the deck, spotting my sisters and me. He gestures for us to come over.
This is why I like Ryke Meadows.
I walk quickly in my heels, careful not to fall down the stairs. I step off the last one and descend the hill, Lily wiping her splotchy cheeks hurriedly. Poppy lifts her bohemian skirt off the damp grass, and I lead the pack, despite one of my heels trying to wedge in the sodden turf.
Ryke peels away from Daisy, concern hardening his jaw. She has a difficult time supporting her heavy limbs, weighed by sadness, and I can tell he’s struggling leaving her, even for a second. He crouches in front of Daisy and kisses the top of her head, says something out of earshot, and stands straight up.
He heads towards us.
By the time we reach the dock, Ryke is a few feet away, fighting back his own tears. He squeezes past us and says in a hushed voice, “She needs her sisters.”
Don’t cry, Rose. I breathe through my nose.
Lily doesn’t wait to hear what happened. Gangly legs and all, she awkwardly runs as fast as she can to our littlest sister.
“Are you two taking a break?” Poppy asks.
“What?” His brows bunch, looking dazed. “No. Fuck no.” He rakes a hand through his hair.