by Zoe Ashton
I tried to smile and keep joking with the rest of them through the night, but after that conversation, I was prepared to leave right away. There was no point in waiting.
Chapter 19
Mabel
When I woke up the next morning, I sat up in bed and looked around my bedroom. Damien’s suitcase was gone, and the couch was empty, just as I expected.
The previous night, we had walked back to my room, got into bed and turned off the lights. Neither of us had the inclination to exchange any words. I couldn’t be sure what was going through his mind, but I was just sad. I had relied on him heavily. I had feelings for him, and yet this was not a relationship. It had been a farce from the start, and it was going to end that way.
Now that I was up, I had a hurricane of feelings washing over me. I missed him instantly. I missed seeing his blue eyes sparkle, his voice, and the way he had of making everything feel alright. Other than that, I was also nervous about telling my family the truth. I didn’t even want to imagine the horror my mom and sisters would feel about me inviting a complete stranger to our house.
I splashed my face with water, changed into a fresh set of jeans and blouse, and headed downstairs.
The house was deathly quiet, and it seemed like everyone was asleep still. Even though Damien and I had returned to my bedroom by midnight, I could hear the party continuing till the wee hours of the morning. I just didn’t have the heart to stay up and keep playing a part.
At the landing of the stairs, I finally heard some voices. I could make out the voice of my mom coming from the kitchen, and I headed there. My heart was pounding at the thought of having to tell her the truth. It sounded like Oscar was with her, which would be the perfect opportunity for me to tell them everything together.
I walked gingerly up to the kitchen door and pushed it open. To my surprise and horror, I found Damien with my mom at the table. He had his suitcase beside me, and he was sitting close to mom, clutching her hands tightly. My mother had a tissue paper to her nose, and her eyes were puffy. It seemed like she had been crying.
I felt instantly nauseous like the breath had been knocked out of me. How could he tell her? What gave him the right to tell my mother instead of letting me. Damien’s eyes met mine, and he could see the rage in them.
“What are you doing?” I snapped at him, and Damien stood up. My mom was wiping her cheeks, composing herself to speak, and I rushed towards her defensively.
“I thought you were gone by now,” I lashed at him.
“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” mom said, with her brows crossed in confusion.
I turned to glare at Damien who shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants guiltily.
“I canceled my meeting for today,” he said and glanced at the suitcase on the floor. I was confused again; then I heard my mom sniffling.
“Mom, I’m sorry … please don’t cry,” I begged and knelt on the floor beside her. To my surprise, she wasn’t angry or aggressive and instead stroked my hair.
“I know, sweetheart. I just couldn’t help it,” she said and looked nervously at Damien. “Every anniversary with Oscar, even though I’m the happiest woman in the world, I can’t help but think about your father. I was just telling Damien about him,” she said and wiped her cheeks again.
I jerked my head to look at him, and he was standing over us with a solemn look on his face.
“And I was just telling Shelly that it’s fine to grieve,” he said in his most understanding voice.
“Damien, can we talk?” I said and stood up and walked out of the kitchen. In a few moments, he followed me out and shut the door behind him.
“You’re still here?” I said, and I recognized the choking sensation in my throat. All the rage and confusion I felt a few seconds ago had evaporated.
“I couldn’t leave, not without saying goodbye again,” he said and shrugged his shoulders.
We were looking at each other silently, and in an instance, I had flung my arms around him and had my cheek pressed to his chest.
“Damien …” I began as I heard his heart beating loudly in my chest.
“It won’t be a lie if you want me to stay here with you,” he said, and I looked up at him with a jerk.
I couldn’t believe what he was saying, if he was even being honest. Was this some kind of game?
“You want to stay?” I said, and he smiled.
“I want to be with you. I don’t want this to be a lie,” he said and tightened his grip on my waist. I licked my lips and nodded my head.
“I want to be with you, Damien,” I cried, and we were kissing.
Every time we broke away for breath, we fell into laughter. Neither of us could believe that this was actually happening.
“This is crazy,” I said breathlessly.
“Insane,” he said, pressing my cheeks with his hands as he pulled me closer to him.
My mom suddenly appeared at the door and found us kissing frantically. She had her eyebrows raised, surprised by our sudden burst of emotion.
“I didn’t think my grief would have sparked something in you two,” she said sarcastically, and Damien and I laughed. We couldn’t control ourselves; everything felt funny.
“I’m going to make French toast. Come get some if you’re hungry,” she said and walked back into the kitchen.
Damien and I fell into maddening fits of laughter again, aware that we had been so close to losing each other—when we only just found one another.
It didn’t take us long to compose ourselves and go back into the kitchen again.
“We’ve decided to stay for a few more days, Shelly,” Damien told my mom, without actually consulting me, and she was delighted.
BONUS REMAINDER
THE END
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