Time to cut a few of his own.
—
Several hours later, Daphne’s doctor allowed visitors. Kylie had gone back to her hotel room to catch a few hours of sleep after waiting up all night, but Cade wanted to stay. Someone needed to be around for Daphne, and it might as well be him.
When they finally let him see her, he was relieved to see that they’d moved Daphne out of ICU and into a private room. She turned toward him, her smile wan, her eyes like bruises in her face. “Hey, you.”
“Hi, Daph,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a shitstain on humanity.”
He shook his head. “I’m sure you’re expecting a lecture, but I’m not here to give one.”
Daphne plucked at the tape on her hand that held her IV into place. “I’m sure you’re saving that for Audrey, right?”
“Nope. Audrey’s not coming.”
Daphne’s veiny, claw-like hands stilled. “She’s . . . what?”
“She’s not coming. She said that last time she warned you that she wasn’t going to do this again.” And he felt like an ass for delivering the painful message, but what else was there to do? “Gretchen’s not coming, either.”
As he watched, her eyes fluttered and she gave a loud sniff, then swiped at her nose with a hand. “Well, fuck them. I mean, hey. Don’t support your sister when she’s in her hour of need. Whatever. Fuck them both. I’m sure Miss Perfect Audrey just went on and on about what a screwup I am, didn’t she?”
“Actually, no,” Cade said. “She was very upset. She does love you, you know. And this is a stressful time for her, too. The last thing I wanted to do was to tell a pregnant woman that her sister tried to take her own life again.”
Daphne sniffed. “At least I have you.”
“You don’t,” Cade said. “Not after today.”
Her eyes widened.
“I’ll always love you as a friend, Daph. Always. But I’m moving on, and I just wanted to let you know. That, and I wanted to see if this was okay with you.” He handed her the piece of paper he’d been writing on all night. “Let me know what you think.”
She took it and scanned the first few lines, wrinkling her nose. “‘I grew up with Daphne Petty back when she was a freckle-faced redhead who loved to take center stage. In all the years I knew her, that never changed.’” She dropped the paper. “What’s this bullshit?”
“It’s the speech I’m going to give at your funeral. Since apparently we’re going to have it in the next year or so. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with what I had to say about you.”
The hands clasping the paper began to shake.
“And since this is the last time I’m going to see you before then, I just wanted to make sure that you approved,” he said softly.
“You’re abandoning me, too?” Tears poured down her face, and her hands shook as if she had a palsy. “I don’t have anyone left!”
“That’s because you’ve driven them all away, Daphne. Were the drugs worth it? Getting high? Partying?” His voice sounded utterly cold, even to himself, but she was listening.
Daphne rubbed a hand over her eyes, looking childlike and very young for a moment. “I hate the drugs. You know that, right? I hate the drugs so much. I hate that I need them.” Her voice became venomous. “I hate myself, Cade. I hate everything about me.” A sob escaped her throat. “And everyone else hates me, too.”
Poor kid. For the first time, he saw who Daphne really was. Not the teenage ingenue he’d longed for. Not the troubled innocent living her life on the stage. She was just a young woman with a massive sense of insecurity and isolation. Who didn’t know what to do with herself. Who didn’t know who to trust.
He reached out and took her hand. Squeezed it. “You’re sick, Daphne. I say this as a friend, but you need help.”
She gave a watery laugh. “Not more of those fucking idiots that want me to do Pilates and grow a plant and talk about my wounded feelings. Rehab’s a fucking joke. You realize that, right? You know I scored drugs from my last nurse in rehab? He was a huge fan.” Her mouth was bitter. “I can’t even get clean when I go to the place to get clean.”
“I’m not talking about just getting clean,” Cade said. “I’m talking about who you are. The Daphne I knew growing up was magnetic. Lovely. Never cruel. The woman you are today . . . that’s not her. You call your employees names, Daph. You gave one of them a concussion. They’re all living in fear of you.” He shook his head. “It’s more than just the drugs. You need a life do-over.”
“I would love a life do-over,” she said, and for a moment, she sounded so wistful that his heart hurt for her. “I would love to not be me anymore. I’m so tired of Daphne Petty. No one likes me, you know? They just like who I am or what I can do for them.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “I knew that, and I kept telling myself I didn’t care. You know? But I do care.” Fresh tears spilled forth. “Maybe the problem is that I care too much.”
“Then do something about it.”
She nodded, absently staring down at their joined hands. “You know . . . I always thought you’d be there to pick up the pieces for me. That no matter how awful I was, or how out of control I got, I could always have you to fall back on. Like a safety net.” Her mouth curled. “Safety Net Cade, there to save Daphne from herself. But . . . you’ve moved on, haven’t you? To Fat Marilyn.”