Yes, she’d blamed Leonidas once, for her father’s unjust imprisonment and death. But she’d forgiven that, even if she hadn’t forgotten it. Right?
Well. It didn’t matter now.
Tears streamed down her face. Turning unsteadily, she stumbled back up the stoop to enter the house he’d just told her was he
rs. He’d given up the fifty-million-dollar brownstone easily, as if it meant nothing. Just like Daisy and their daughter.
If he’d cared at all, he never would have abandoned them. He would have tried to make their marriage work. Tried to love her.
But he hadn’t.
Daisy closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. Above her, the crystal chandelier chimed discordantly in the puff of air.
The luxury of this mansion mocked her in her grief. This place was a palace. It was heaven. But it felt like an empty hell.
She stared blankly at the sweeping stone staircase where her husband had once carried her up to the bedroom, lost in reckless passion.
Her knees gave out beneath her and she slid back against the wall with a sob, crumpling onto the floor.
Her dog, coming downstairs to investigate, gave a worried whine and pushed her soft furry body against Daisy, offering comfort. She wrapped her arm around the animal and stared dimly at the opposite wall, where she’d framed sketches of her husband and baby.
“Mrs. Niarxos.”
She looked up to see Mrs. Berry looking down at her with worried eyes. Swallowing, she whispered, “He left me.”
“Oh, my dear.” The white-haired housekeeper put her hand on Daisy’s shoulder. Her voice was gentler than she’d ever heard before. “I’m so sorry.”
The ache in Daisy’s throat sharpened to a razor blade. “I thought, if I loved him enough...” Her image shimmered through a haze of tears. “I thought I could love him enough for both of us.”
Mrs. Berry’s hand tightened, and she said quietly, “I’ve known the boy for a long time. He never learned to love anyone. Least of all himself.”
“But why wouldn’t he? He’s amazing. He’s wonderful. He...” She heard the echo of his words. I’m not wonderful. I’m not perfect. I’m a selfish, cold bastard.
“What can I do, my dear?”
“I...” Shaking, Daisy closed her eyes. Still sitting on the marble floor, she gripped her knees against her broken heart. She couldn’t imagine any future. All she saw ahead of her was a bleak wasteland of pain.
Then Sunny put her chin against Daisy’s leg, her black eyes looking up mournfully, and Daisy remembered that she couldn’t fall apart. She had a baby relying on her.
Five months ago, she’d thought she was ready to raise their baby alone. She’d made plans to go to nursing school, to move to California. She’d been strong in herself. She hadn’t needed him.
Where had that strong woman gone?
She’d long since canceled her college registration. Daisy blinked fast, trying to see clearly. She stroked her dog’s soft golden fur. She took a deep breath. Strong. She had to be strong.
She looked up at Mrs. Berry. “I need to go.”
“Go?”
Daisy slowly got up. She looked around the elegant foyer. “I can’t stay here. It reminds me too much of him. And how happy we were...”
The housekeeper gave her a strange look. “Were you really?”
Staring at her, Daisy held in her breath. Had they been happy?
“I thought we were,” she choked out. “At least at first. But something happened when our baby was born...”
Across the foyer, Daisy’s eyes fell again on the framed sketch she’d done of her husband on their honeymoon. They’d been happy then. Next to that, there was a framed sketch of their baby’s smiling face and innocent dark eyes. Just like Leonidas’s—and yet nothing at all like them.