by Nikki Wild
“I wish I didn’t have to be parted with you again so soon,” I told him, still feeling out how our dynamic had changed so quickly. “I want you to stay here. Let Dad come back and see us.”
Damian paused, as if honestly considering that. Finally, he said: “You and I both know that’s not a good idea.”
“I know, I know,” I grumbled, before turning to him again. “But just… promise me that you won’t do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t abandon me.”
In that moment, I saw how deeply Damian Clarke’s eyes could betray him, and I learned that even he could feel guilt.
“I won’t abandon you,” he promised me, his lips on my knuckles again. “And as for your father, I suspect that he will be back sooner than you’d think, possibly even this afternoon. It’s best for the both of us if I’m long gone by then.”
He sounded confident in that guess.
Too confident.
I didn’t want to ask how he knew any of this. His omnipotence seemed very keen on my life and that of my father, and fleeting doubt crept back into my head again.
What if he’s just using me?
What if he wants to just bring down Dad?
The Damian Clarke I knew as a child might have struck out on his own after a falling out, but he’d never cripple his old business partner’s firm.
Then again, that wasn’t the man who fucked me hard in his office…
But wasn’t that the one who was in this bed the last few nights? A voice in the back of my head asked. When he holds you now, he is everything you’d hoped for throughout all those years… could they not be the same man?
Tentatively, I looked him in the eyes. Damian watched me curiously, his gaze already beginning to search mine.
“Princess?”
I nodded, collecting my thoughts. “Yeah. You need to get to work,” I replied. “Besides, if my dad is coming home today anyway, then we’d both be in serious trouble if he found you here.”
He looked unconvinced, but agreed.
We held each other in bed for a moment longer before we finally rose up. After he got dressed, it only took him fifteen minutes to gather his things downstairs, wandering from room to room. In the meantime, I threw on some lazy pajamas and sulked near the front door.
Damian stepped into the foyer and paused when he saw me. I was doing my best to keep on a straight, smiling face, but he saw straight through that in a glance.
“I think your driver’s here,” I told him.
“Screw the driver, he can wait a moment…”
Within just a few strong strides, Damian was at my side, sweeping me into a deep and powerful kiss. I felt his lips brush away my doubts, his tongue darting against mine.
We held each other like that for a moment. Everything felt so right somehow, and the rest of the world faded away.
For just a moment, we hung in the balance.
Dangling, frozen in time…
But the spell broke with the polite tapping at the door, and I reluctantly pulled away from him. When I looked into Damian’s eyes, I could see that they were filled with longing.
“I love you,” he whispered again.
My heart skipped a beat. “I love you too.”
My trembling hand slipped up around my back, unlocking and unlatching the door. I pulled it open from behind and stepped aside.
“Go,” I smiled sadly, shaking my head.
The portly, older driver took one glance at us and quickly excused himself back towards the elegant black car by the curb.
Damian followed him a few steps, briefcase clenched in his fist, before turning on his heel. He stood on the last step of the landing and bathed me in his piercing, handsome gaze.
“I know I ask too much of you, Chloe. I can only hope that my gift for you is enough to prove my sincerity.”
Damian hesitated a moment, as if meaning to say something else. He looked as sharp as ever in his confident, three-piece black suit, but this was the first time I’d ever seen him… nervous?
He straightened his spine, turning to follow the path of his driver. When he climbed into the backseat, he didn’t turn back.
Maybe he couldn’t bear to, I wondered.
I don’t know how long I wound up lingering in the doorway after his car left my sight. When I remembered his talk of a gift, however, I closed the door and sadly padded around the house.
Although I searched high and low, I couldn’t find any evidence of a “gift” he might have left.
It occurred to me that he might have meant another payment, as per our old terms. My phone had been left downstairs on the couch, and I checked my notifications.
There was nothing new in the app.
However, there were a few texts from my father. It seemed that he was coming back today after all, and would be here within a couple of hours.
I felt bitter, all of a sudden.
You were right after all, Damian.
With the house completely to myself for the first time in several days, I threw together a bowl of cereal and flopped down in the living room, switching on the Netflix.
There, I let myself fall into a deep daze, pushing everything away for the next few hours. I was possibly even more confused than before, and I wanted my father to finally come back home.
I needed him now more than ever, and so I was deeply relieved when I eventually heard the telltale scuffling of his dress shoes against the hardwood floors.
And that’s when everything changed.
Chloe
My father, tall and proud, stepped into the room just as I paused the television. He wore a dark blue suit that was older than Damian’s attire, but it always suited his dignified air.
His smile beamed when he laid eyes on me.
“Welcome back, Buttercup!”
I was up in a flash, throwing my arms around him. He chuckled kindly as he held me, pulling my head into his chest.
“I’ve missed you, Dad.”
“The feeling’s mutual. It’s been quiet around here without you, Chloe.”
By that, he meant lonely.
But I knew he’d never say it.
“Have you eaten yet?” He asked as he held me near arm’s length to get a good look at me. “I didn’t have much time for lunch today, and I’m thinking we should go out for lunch. Don’t know about you, but I’m feeling something swanky. Maybe that new upscale place on Walnut?”
“Oh yeah? What’s the occasion?”
“Twofold,” he smiled. “First of all, you’re here! That’s reason enough to do something special. But on another note, my business trip went well. I think something big is about to happen for the company.”
It was my turn to beam. “That’s… incredible!”
“Isn’t it though?” My father pulled me into a tight, affectionate side-hug for a moment. “It looks like our financial troubles are over. With all the rumors flying around in the offices, I can’t wait to tell my staff the good news…”
“The future looks bright?” I asked.
“It most certainly does,” he grinned. This was the most self-assured I had seen my father in the last few years. It was a good look for him. “You know, it’s an unbelievable story, but I’ll save it for the restaurant. Speaking of…”
My father glanced inquisitively at me.
“Oh!” I realized, glancing over at my forgotten, half-eaten cereal bowl. “I haven’t had anything substantial since dinner early last night. Lunch actually sounds pretty great right now.”
“Excellent!” He clasped his hands together. “Well Buttercup, in that case – why don’t you run along upstairs and change, and I’ll call ahead?”
I agreed, and we parted ways.
He scooped up his briefcase as I left the room and made my way up the steps, then down towards my bedroom.
Oh shit!
I realized with a sudden jerk the mistake I was about to make: I had completely forgotten to clear the evidence that his room h
ad been disturbed.
Let alone, used and abused…
Peering down the stairs first, I could faintly hear him down there somewhere, preoccupied on the phone. I quickly darted over to his bedroom to survey the disaster.
It wasn’t quite as dramatic as I’d expected. The candles we’d been using all had to go, and his bed was a bit of a mess.
But all else looked mostly untouched.
Hastily, I whipped his bed back into shape – hoping he wouldn’t notice it being a little off from how he made it. I tested my luck trying to get it just right; on the third try, it looked passable. I quickly scooped up the candles and their wax dishes, and then bolted as silently as possible back to my bedroom door.
In my struggle to get the doorknob open with my arms full, I accidentally dropped half of them against the hardwood floor.
Goddammit!
“Buttercup?” I heard his voice from near the bottom of the stairs. “Are you okay up there?”
“Yeah!” I called down his way, suppressing my panic. “Don’t come up just yet, I’ll be back there in a minute!”
“Okay, just don’t take too much longer!” He answered back. “They’ve got tables available, but they’re filling fast. I want us heading out the door in five!”
I swallowed a grumble. “You got it!”
Popping my door open, I carefully snatched up the stuff I’d dropped and shoved through it with my shoulder.
Without the luxury of time, the closet looked as good a hiding place as any. I dumped the candles and dishes out of my arms into a corner, figuring I can deal with putting them back into storage that night, then quickly flipped through some clothes.
He’d be up any minute; matching colors and whipping together something calculated was off the table. I settled on a cute dress and whirled around, ready to change.
That’s when I saw it.
There, carefully placed in the center of my bed, was a small wooden cherrywood box with a crisp, folded note. The wood of the box bore the same varnish as Damian’s office décor, and I felt a small flush in my cheeks. For the briefest moment, my mind filled with all the beautiful ways he had defiled me there.
The dress fell from my hands as I walked over, captivated and entranced. I didn’t even think to check my own bedroom…
My attention went to the note. I placed a hand on the rounded lid of the box – like a small chest, with a smooth veneer – as I held up the note and read from his crisp handwriting.
The ink was even still a little fresh.
This decision has weighed heavily on me for a month. I am sorry it took me so long to tell you. If there had been an easier way, believe me: I would have taken it.
I told you I would never abandon you.
Here, my darling Princess, is a promise. I hope it can convince you that I am a man of my word.
Contact me when you’ve made your choice.
Love, Damian
My brow furrowed, and I set the note aside. Fearful anticipation tied my stomach in knots as I turned my attention to the cherrywood box. With a deep, terrified breath, I pried open the tiny latch and lifted the lid.
And there, painstakingly placed atop a soft bed of elegant, textured black foam, was the scariest thing I could have imagined.
It was an engagement ring.
Some part of me heard the footsteps up the stairs, and how they led to my doorway. It barely registered that my father’s voice was calling out to me, surprised and impatient.
I turned to him, some mumbled apology on my breath. It all seemed so distant…
Dad recognized that something was wrong. His irritation faded into smoke as he walked up to me in a few strides, putting his hands on my shoulders. His concerned eyes took my gaze.
“Honey… what’s the matter?”
Everything came back into focus. I took a second to swallow, preparing to tell him that it was all fine, I just needed another moment–
But he had seen the box now.
Before I could say anything, his eyes flicked from the ring in its wooden chest to the note.
“Dad, wait–”
Without hesitation, he freed a hand from my shoulders and snatched up the note.
“It’s not what you–”
But he wasn’t listening.
His entire body stiffened the moment he saw the handwriting; as my father quickly scanned the words, his gaze hardened to stone.
“Dad…”
His dignified chin lifted high as he tore his gaze from the note. Staring into space with a stoic expression, he let it sail down to the bed.
I tried to pull his face my way.
“Look at me, please.”
I got my wish, and I regretted it in an instant. “Why is Damian Clarke proposing to you?”
There was no hiding the truth anymore.
“I’ve been seeing him,” I answered sadly.
His jaw tightened. “For how long?”
“Most of the semester.”
I understood that people – usually his rivals, sometimes even the wildest of his clients – found my father to be an intimidating man.
But it was only in that moment that I saw this side of him for myself.
“You’re telling me that, ever since leaving my sight, you’ve been seeing the man who has spent the last six years slowly squeezing the life out of my company and its employees?”
He had never been so livid around me.
And I felt my heart breaking.
“Yes,” I sadly replied.
His expression darkened. “Do you love him?”
I was taken aback by the question. But I had been honest with him thus far, and there was no use in hiding any of it anymore.
“Yes.”
He couldn’t look at me anymore. I could hear my father grinding his teeth as he stared into space, chuckling bitterly to himself.
“Damian loves me too.”
His gaze fell down upon the small, open chest again. There was disgust in his eyes as he stared at the ring, clearly concentrating all of his anger and disappointment at it.
It was bad enough when the weeks without contact hurled me into emotional free-fall, but now this? It was too much for me to handle.
“Dad, I don’t expect you to understand,” I started. “And this,” I waved to the display, “I don’t know how to deal with right now, but–”
“No, I think I do understand,” he cut me off.
“You… do?”
A growl left his lips as he reached for the note again, bitterly rereading the words. “No,” he declared to himself. “Not my daughter.”
The words snapped something in my head.
“I’m not your little girl anymore,” I told him as I put a hand onto my hip. “I’ve grown up, Dad. I can choose for myself now.”
“You’re a college student!”
“I’m an adult!” I snapped. “I support myself and I can make my own goddamned decisions!”
In any other context, one look at his face would have proven all of this was a huge mistake. But I had grown angry now, and that became my shield against his rage.
“Support yourself?” He turned to me. “How the hell have you been supporting yourself? Last that I heard, you were willfully unemployed, focusing on your classes! What, did you suddenly figure out how to come into money?”
I don’t know what he saw in my expression, but he tilted his head curiously.
His gaze shifted down onto the ring and the note, then to me again. In his head, I could see the cogs spinning as he put two and two together…
“You didn’t,” his eyes went wild.
My eyes narrowed with disdain. “I’m not going to take this from you,” I barked, turning to face Damian’s gift. “From either of you.”
“Chloe,” my father groaned.
Throwing on the least sincere smile I could, I spat out: “Thanks for the lunch, Dad. It was great to, you know, get to catch up again.”
His face was quiet, defeated.
&
nbsp; “Tell me that you didn’t…”
“Congratulations on the new breakthrough with your business,” I glowered, brushing past him. “But mine is none of yours.”
He didn’t follow me as I raced downstairs and snatched my keys off of the foyer end table. I checked my pockets for my wallet and phone as I slammed the front door behind me.
Within the minute, I was already pulling my car out of the garage, flying onto the road and leaving everything – my forgotten luggage, the sudden proposal, my defeated father and our broken relationship – in that old bedroom.
It was only once I hit a red light that I finally pulled my pajamas close around my shoulders and let out the first deep, shuddering sob.
Chloe
Everything had fallen apart.
I’d had such high hopes for this week. It was meant to have refreshed and grounded me. It would have helped me bridge my relationship with my father. But then Damian happened, and everything grew ever murkier still.
Instead of cleansing my soul, I was in an even worse state than before I’d started – all thanks to throwing caution to the wind. Stupid, naïve me had let him sweep me off of my feet, and his answer to establishing my trust was to leave me a box and a ring.
It was just in time to unravel my relationship with my father. What the fuck had I been thinking? I wondered to myself, bitterly reflecting on the broken pieces of my life.
Agreeing to let him into my house?
Taking him in without explanation?
Then fucking him in my father’s bed?
There had been a simpler time, I felt. Before Damian Clarke had come back into my life, filling my head with crazy emotions and driving a deep, toxic splinter into my only family relationship.
But it was hard to think back that far, given how deeply his renewed presence had changed things. I wondered if I could just send him all the money back, just to be rid of all of this.
For now, there were more important things.
Namely, the fact that I was a sobbing mess in smeared makeup from the previous night, hurtling onto the interstate in the only clothes on me – a pair of pajamas. If I needed to stop to pee, I was going to be a ridiculous spectacle.