Two Halves
Father and Mother had resigned themselves when their second daughter, Daisy, was born, though they felt little affection for her. Father would often remark,
«Mistakes happen. We wanted a son and got another daughter—as if one wasn’t enough.»
Nothing could be done—such was fate. Lily, the elder daughter, was their darling. The second girl seemed unnecessary, but a child was a child. Lily was adored, indulged, their pride and joy. Golden curls, bright blue eyes, long lashes—she had been a little charmer from birth.
The Unloved Daughter
Daisy grew up just as bright and pretty, but as she grew older, she realised her parents favoured Lily. Whatever Lily wanted, she got, while Daisy’s requests were met with sighs. Hand-me-downs from Lily were her lot, and her sister delighted in it.
«Why can’t you be more like Lily?» her parents would say—though what exactly that meant, Daisy never understood.
Lily was worse at school, did less around the house, yet remained the favourite. Daisy learned to make herself small, a shadow trailing a step behind. Lily, aware of her superiority, blamed Daisy for her own mischief and, as she grew, took pleasure in belittling her.
She boasted to friends, «Mum and Dad buy me everything—Daisy just gets my cast-offs. She’s plain, and I’m the pretty one.»
It was true. Lily got new clothes, expensive and fine, while Daisy wore them secondhand, years out of style. The humiliation burned, especially when classmates mocked her.
Once, at fifteen, Daisy dared to ask, «Mum, why must I always wear Lily’s old things? She gets everything new.»
«Lily’s the eldest—that’s just how it is,» Mother snapped. «Be grateful. The clothes are perfectly good. You’re not worse off than anyone.»
Daisy felt the injustice deepen. Even their neighbour, Vera, remarked, «You’re too hard on your younger girl. My Kate says Daisy’s teased at school for wearing hand-me-downs.»
Mother didn’t like that. Assuming Daisy had complained, she stormed inside, seized her by the shoulders, and shook her. «Ungrateful girl! I’ll teach you to shame me!»
Daisy crumpled to the floor, covering her face. «God,» she whispered, «why did you let me be born?»
The Path to Adulthood
Time passed. Lily left school and enrolled at university—a paid placement, having failed to secure funding. Two years later, Daisy, dreaming of becoming an accountant, entered a different university, studying remotely. Her parents had said plainly,
«Study how you like, but we can’t pay for both of you.»
Daisy never doubted they’d choose Lily. She found work and bought her own things.
Lily barely scraped through university; failed courses, near-expulsions, nights out at clubs. She cycled through boyfriends, funded by parents or wealthier men.
Daisy excelled, balancing work and studies effortlessly. She lived at home but asked for nothing, and her parents were content.
As Lily’s final year approached, Mother fretted.
«Lily, you must think of marriage. Find a man who can provide—someone with means.»
Lily waved her off. «Relax, Mum. I know what I’m doing.»
Previously careless with boys, she suddenly settled on Robert, a banker with a flat in London and a luxury car. Beautiful and cunning, Lily had no trouble ensnaring him.
They met at a café where Lily and a friend stopped after exams. Robert, celebrating his birthday with mates, invited them over. By evening, she was in his flat.
Soon, they were engaged. Robert visited her family, bearing roses for Mother and fine whisky for Father. Everyone approved—he was the perfect match.
The Unexpected
But then—Daisy did something she never expected. She fell, hopelessly and instantly, for her sister’s fiancé.
Robert, though privileged, was no frivolous playboy. Intelligent, kind, with dark hair and warm brown eyes—Daisy envied Lily bitterly.
«Why does she always get the best?» she thought, aching in silence.
When Robert met Daisy, his gaze lingered, thoughtful. Over dinner, their eyes met again. He was serious, solemn—while Lily basked in his adoration.
The wedding was set for June. Amid preparations, Robert asked Daisy, «You know Lily best—help me pick a restaurant and a gift?»
«Of course,» she said, hiding her eagerness.
The wedding day arrived. Lily, dazzling in white, was radiant. Daisy’s heart twisted—she knew Lily didn’t love Robert. She’d marry him, then grow bored.
«Lily’s a predator,» Daisy thought. «Robert will see through her.»
A year and a half later, Lily announced, «Robert and I are divorcing.»
Mother panicked. «Think! Where will you find another man like him? A home, a good income—»
Only Daisy was glad.
After graduation, Lily arrived at Daisy’s celebration with a new man—a brash, muscle-bound lout. «Robert was dull,» she bragged. «No clubs, no fun. Greg’s different—we’re living at his place now.»
Three years passed. A phone call woke Daisy one weekend. Mother’s voice was sharp.
«Everyone’s up but you! I need you to handle something. Your grandmother left that cottage to both of you. Lily needs money—sell it and split the proceeds.»
Daisy sighed. «So we’re the labour, is that it?»
She and Robert travelled to the village. Neighbourly old Agnes handed them the keys.
«I’ve kept the place warm,» she said. «Your gran was dear to me.»
The cottage wasn’t derelict, as Daisy feared. «It’s lovely, Agnes. Thank you.»
Agnes smiled. «You’re expecting, aren’t you?» Daisy nodded.
«But why sell?» Agnes pressed. «Your granddad built this. Keep it—for your family.»
Robert agreed. «We’ll buy Lily out. She’ll take the money and choke on it.»
Agnes chuckled. «Lily always was spiteful—blaming you, lying. She’s trouble.»
They decided then: the cottage would stay.
Robert had known early that Lily was no wife. She refused children, flaunted affairs. When she left, he was relieved.
Months later, he arrived at Daisy’s door with roses.
«Daisy,» he said, «I need your help again.»
«Of course,» she said, heart pounding.
«Marry me. You can think about it—»
She stepped into his arms. «Yes. I’ve thought enough.»
Neither doubted it. They were two halves—now whole.