“You’re younger than Rose by seven years, and while I don’t take that much stock in ages, she still feels weak if you console her. In Rose’s mind, that’s her job.” “But you can console her?” Daisy asks. “I’m her husband, her equal.” I can sense Daisy reading into that last word. Her shoulders fall at the idea of not being equal to her sister, at being less somehow. “Hey,” I nod to Daisy and shake my head at her. “Don’t overanalyze what he’s fucking saying.”
he knows her so well
