COVERED IN DAISIES

22. WHAT DID I JUST DO?

I read the book intensely for hours. I was almost at the middle and all I found were some patterns, which I failed to draw conclusions as to why some letters where highlighted in red, yellow and green ink.

We all use highlighters in books from time to time, but not like this. I never saw a book where only specific letters were highlighted, and the letters seemed to follow a pattern.

I returned to the living room hours after I had left her there.

Daisy was lying on the sofa, and immediately she saw me, she rose up and sat straight, making space for me to sit beside her, but I didn't; I didn't even look in her direction.

Yeah, it was working. My act of toughness started to make her care.

Thank God for my inner advisor.

I sat on the other chair opposite to her, refusing to even look at her, as I knew just staring at her eyes would give my anger-power away.

Some minutes later, She stood up from the sofa and came to sit on the chair right next to me.

Maybe she realized I haven't moved a muscle on my neck towards her, as I was fully focused on the book in my hands.

I sometimes watched her through the corner of my eyes, but she didn't know.

​"James I said I'm sorry." She said and leaned closer.

I turned to look away.

​"James please talk to me." She pleaded.

"I'm sorry too, I'm no longer interested." I said, my gaze still on the book.

​"What exactly do you mean by that." She asked.

More like, I've fallen out of crush with you. No...
I've fallen out of love with you.

I said, but only in my mind, the words never came out, or the words feared to even come out.

​"Why don't you be you and I'll be me" I said tilting my head, and watching her from the corner of my eyes.

It's actually funny how women think they can demand physical affection whenever they want but men can't.

​"You know it wasn't my fault then, I was suffering from PTSD." She tried to lock hands with me but I refused.

"So that's your excuse for how you've been treating me these past weeks." I raised my chin and finally looked at her.

"It's not an excuse." she replied with a lowered voice.
"So those harsh words you said to me when I tried to ask about your family was PTSD right?" I said and grimaced.

"Of course it was." She replied.

"Then I guess pushing me on the floor was also PTSD." I said and raised my eyebrow; giving her a glassy stare.

Wow! hard-tough guy James is going so well.

I sat with a rigid posture, staring blankly at the page longer than I should have.

I was interested in the conversation we were having, but I didn't want to let her know that.

She leaned a little forward and said "Okay I get it, I exaggerated a little and I said I'm sorry."

​"You call that a little exaggeration? It was actually a big deal just as it is now" I shifted my chair a little, creating space between us."

"Anyway, I made you your favorite for lunch."

"My favorite? How do you know my favorite?" I asked with my eyes narrowed a little.

​"You do realize this is one of the few actual conversations we've had in weeks."