I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 161

Chapter 161

Emery’s POV

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The restaurant she chose was secluded, soft jazz floating in the background, low enough to feel like it was there on purpose. People sipped champagne and leaned close over their plates, voices so quiet you’d wonder how they even heard each other. Everything about the place screamed private, the kind of privacy that made you sit up straighter without realizing it.

I did exactly that, straightened my back, lifted my chin, smoothed my expression into something calm.

Whatever Daisy wanted, I hoped it would match the vibe. Soft. Nice. A simple conversation.

“Emery.” Daisy said, standing the moment she saw me.

She pulled me into her embrace like she’d been waiting all day. was warm, familiar, almost convincing, her arms firm around my shoulders, her perfume expensive and clean. The kind of hug you couldn’t reject without looking rude.

“How are you?” I asked as we took our seats, my voice polite, careful.

“Oh, good.” Daisy said with a gentle smile, adjusting her napkin on her lap like she was settling into a normal evening. “We’re leaving for California tomorrow, and I thought I’d see you before I left.” She paused, eyes narrowing just slightly like she was checking my reaction. “I hope I didn’t catch you in the middle of work.”

“No, it’s fine.” I said, forcing ease into my tone. “I was just done.”

The waitress arrived with our meal.

“If you don’t mind,” Daisy said, bright and casual, “I already ordered.”

“It’s fine,” I replied automatically.

The plates were set down, and my eyes went to mine.

Salmon. Rice. Everything plated perfectly, pretty enough to be in a magazine, the kind of meal that made you feel guilty for eating it.

Daisy watched me for a moment, then tipped her head. “You haven’t touched your meal,” she pointed out.

I gave her a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah. I’m allergic to salmon.”

“Shit,” she cursed instantly, and her face snapped into panic mode, eyes widening, posture shifting like she was about to jump up and fix it herself. “Em, I’m so sorry. Let me call the wai

“It’s fine,” I cut in gently, keeping my tone light, smoothing it over like I always did. “I’m not so hungry.”

She hesitated, still looking guilty. “Are you sure? I can ask them to get you something else.”

“Yeah,” I said, still smiling. Still calm. Still refusing to make it a thing. “I’m sure.”

Daisy nodded slowly, like she didn’t love being wrong about anything, even dinner. Then she focused back on her own meal, and I sat there with my water and my untouched plate, feeling the weird weight of the moment settling in my chest.

We ate or rather, she ate.

Eventually, the plates were cleared, and payment made. And the silence slipped in, smooth and heavy, like it had been waiting for its turn.

Daisy cleared her throat.

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“1. um.” Her face softened into something sad. Apologetic. Almost fragile. But with Daisy, I could never tell if it was honest or just one of her many acts.

“I’m sorry about the other night at dinner,” she said.

“It’s fine. Daisy.” I replied.

“No,” she pushed, voice gentle but firm. “It’s not.” She took a breath like she’d rehearsed this in the mirror. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the realization that my words might have come out harsh.” She gave me that sweet mother smile. “But I’m sure you understand… I’m just being a mom. I want you guys to be happy.”

I used to believe that.

Back when I still wanted to believe her.

Now doubt sat in my chest like a stone.

She reached across the table and took my hand in hers, her fingers warm, her grip steady. “I know what happened ten years ago was basically just you guys being childish.”

My smile stayed on my face, but something in me tightened.

Childish.

When did love become childish?

“And I trust you,” she continued smoothly, “knowing we both took a step on why you should leave.”

Not sitting well.

Because she didn’t force me to go to France, she didn’t drag me on a plane.

I left on my own. I left because I thought I was doing the right thing.

“And thanks to that step,” Daisy said, squeezing my hand gently ke she was comforting me, “Atlas finally is who he is today.” Her voice softened, almost proud. “I tried talking to Atlas, but all he’s done is get mad at me,” she mumbled, looking down. like she was wounded.

Ah.

Now I see.

She tried getting through to Atlas. He didn’t budge.

So she came to the second option.

Me.

She sighed and looked up like she was fighting back tears.

Again with the tears.

“… I didn’t mean to ramble,” she said, blinking like emotion was creeping in, “but in summary, all I’m trying to say is, or rather prevent, is false news spreading.” Her voice dropped. “We can’t have what happened before happen again.”

Then she leaned in closer, whispering like she was afraid the walls had cars.

“Imagine the public finds out,” she murmured. “All fingers would point at you. And let’s not even get started on that crazy fan they could call you names” fler eyes sharpened, voice turnog almost cruel in its “concern.” “Whore. Slut, Immor…”

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Chapter 161

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“L.. um.” Her face softened into something sad. Apologetic. Almost fragile. But with Daisy, I could never tell if it was honest or just one of her many acts.

“I’m sorry about the other night at dinner,” she said.

“It’s fine, Daisy,” I replied.

“No,” she pushed, voice gentle but firm. “It’s not.” She took a breath like she’d rehearsed this in the mirror. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the realization that my words might have come out harsh. She gave me that sweet mother smile.

But I’m sure you understand… I’m just being a mom. I want you guys to be happy

I used to believe that.

Back when I still wanted to believe her.

Now… doubt sat in my chest like a stone.

She reached across the table and took my hand in hers, her fingers warm, her grip steady. “I know what happened ten years ago was basically just you guys being childish.”

My smile stayed on my face, but something in me tightened.

Childish.

When did love become childish?

“And I trust you,” she continued smoothly, “knowing we both took a step on why you should leave.

Not sitting well.

Because she didn’t force me to go to France, she didn’t drag me on a plane.

I left on my own. I left because I thought I was doing the right thing.

“And thanks to that step,” Daisy said, squeezing my hand gently like she was comforting me, “Atlas finally is who he is today.” Her voice softened, almost proud. “I tried talking to Atlas, but all he’s done is get mad at me,” she mumbled, looking down like she was wounded.

Ah.

Now I see.

She tried getting through to Atlas. He didn’t budge.

So she came to the second option.

Me.

She sighed and looked up like she was fighting back tears.

Again with the tears.

“I… I didn’t mean to ramble,” she said, blinking like emotion was creeping in, “but in summary, all I’m trying to say is, or rather prevent, is false news spreading.” Her voice dropped. “We can’t have what happened before happen again.”

Then she leaned in closer, whispering like she was afraid the walls had ears.

“Imagine the public finds out,” she murmured. “All fingers would point at you. And let’s not even get started on that crazy fan… they could call you names.” Her eyes sharpened, voice turning almost cruel in its “concern.” “Whore. Slut. Immor…”

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