Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

  “Right. Of course.”

  “Do you want to see her?” Lia offers, and now it’s my turn to smile. This is going better than I thought.

  “Yeah,” Damian says.

  Lia slips off my lap and walks over to him. She holds out her favorite pony, the one I had to specifically ask the McDonald’s people for. The one she has ten of at home—though not from McDonald’s, and strangely enough, don’t seem to get lost—and two at my parents’ house. The girl is obsessed, I swear.

  Damian accepts the girly toy. “Thank you.”

  This makes Lia smile again, and she points at the pony’s hind end. “That’s her cutie mark, and she’s a unicorn, so she can do magic. And these?” she says, showing him the protruding plastic, “these are her wings.”

  “She can fly too?” Damian asks, intrigued. “That’s cool.”

  Lia puffs her chest out. “Yep. With her wings.”

  “Wow. Well, I can see why she’s your favorite. Can she be my favorite pony too?”

  She swings her attention to me like she’s asking permission, and I grin back. “Um, okay,” she finally says. “If she’s your favorite now, you can have this one. I have lots of her at home.”

  For a second, Damian is speechless, and I can’t help falling in love with him all over again. The way he is with Lia, the way he looks at her with adoration, makes me want to forget all his faults and all the reasons why I couldn’t allow Lia to stay with him even if he offers.

  He hugs the toy to his chest. “Thank you, Lia.”

  ~*~

  Damian

  This little girl had me mesmerized at my first glimpse. I can’t get over how much she looks like me—like my mother.

  Watching Ellie with her—wow! She’s a good mother, definitely cut out for this. Patient, loving, kind—

  Which is why I decide on the spot that I can’t keep Lia this summer if Ellie asks. Since Ellie left this morning, the idea of having my daughter with me for eight weeks is the only thing I’ve been able to think about. But Ellie built a life for herself and her daughter in Florida, and by what I see right now, it’s a good life. One that doesn’t need me to come in and fuck it up. Yeah, they’re better off without me.

  Besides, being close to someone isn’t worth the shit that comes after they’re gone. Daughter or not, the best thing I can do for either of them is to stay the fuck away.

  “She’s beautiful, Elle,” I say after I scoop Lia a bowl of ice cream I bought specifically for tonight. Because kids love ice cream.

  “Well, she takes after you more than me in that department.” Ellie blushes, her pale blue irises peeking through her long lashes. Lashes that mimic Lia’s, I notice. “Hey, Damian, I’m sorry that I came in and blew all this on you. It wasn’t fair.”

  I clear my throat, and flash a sideways glance at Lia. She’s sticking another mountain of pink ice cream into her mouth. “So now what? You going back home?”

  Ellie nods. Like me, she knows leaving Lia here with me is a stupid idea. “Our plane leaves tomorrow evening at six.”

  Part of me wants to ask her if I’ll ever see them again, but I’m not sure if I want to. Clean breaks are better than drawn-out ones, and it seems Ellie had the right idea to stay away for so long. Suddenly, I kind of wish she’d stayed gone longer.

  “What about the research trip?” I ask.

  Shrugging, Ellie adjusts herself on the dining table chair. “Something else will probably come up. Something closer, where I can be home with Lia every night.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “That would be good.”

  Ellie’s got it figured out.

  “Oh, here.” I pull out the picture of Lia from my back pocket, the one I picked up off the diner floor.

  Ellie shakes her head and holds up a hand. “No, you should keep it.”

  I flick the edge, wondering if that’s really a good idea. Not exactly the clean break I had in mind. “Thanks,” I say and slide it back in my pocket.

  “Mommy?” Lia asks, ice cream all over her face. It reminds me of this photo of Liam Mom kept on the mantel of his second birthday.

  Ellie laughs when she sees her. “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “Can I have some milk, please?”

  “I’ll get it,” I offer. I open the fridge and grab the gallon of milk. If it weren’t for Dylan and his six glasses a day, we wouldn’t even buy the stuff. Then I grab a glass from the cupboard and turn to Ellie. “Um, I don’t have sippy cups or bottles or anything.”

  She suppresses a grin. “She can drink from a glass.”

  I fill it and consider handing it to Ellie to give to her. For some reason, though, I bypass her and set it on the table in front of Lia. She lifts her big, blue eyes to me and I can’t help the jolt that passes through me. “Thank you,” she says in her tiny, sweet voice.

  “Sure, whatever,” I answer, because the goosebumps spreading over my skin remind me to steer clear. Keep my distance.

  I don’t sit back down. Instead, I stand behind the kitchen peninsula. Now, a milk mustache replaces the strawberry ice cream one Lia sported earlier, and I feel a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

  I can’t let this little girl draw me in. She may be my own flesh and blood, but disconnecting myself from her is the best way I know of to protect her.

  “It’s getting late, Damian,” Ellie says after she wipes Lia’s face with a paper towel. “We should go.”

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks for coming over, Elle.” As much as I shouldn’t be in their lives, I mean it. Even if it’s only this once, I’m glad to have seen my daughter.

  “At Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house, I get to sleep in bed with Mommy,” Lia quips, proud. She slides off the chair that’s too big for her, and she pushes her hair from her face. The action isn’t gentle and now her hair’s even more of a mess.

  Why does she have to be so fucking cute?

  “You like that, huh?” I ask.

  When she smiles at me, I notice the tiny gap between her two front teeth. “Yep.”

  “Why don’t you go get your jacket, sweetie?” Ellie says, directing her toward the living room.

  “Okay,” she answers.

  This may be the first and last time I ever see her. Lia bounces away, and I can’t help the lump rising in my throat.

  It’s for the best, I remind myself.

  The lump only grows at the thought.

  Ellie stands beside me, almost touching me. “Again, Damian, I’m sorry for not telling you about her.”

  From the kitchen, I watch as Lia pulls her pink jacket off the sofa cushion. She studies it, flips it around, and starts to put her arm through while the coat is upside down. She spins in a circle trying to insert her other arm. When she can’t make it work, she looks at me—not Ellie—and frowns. Her eyebrows lower as she pleads with me from across the room.

  “You need to go, Elle,” I murmur, because I’m close to doing something stupid. I have to do for Lia what I couldn’t do for Kate and walk away. Still, I can’t take my eyes off her.

  “I can send pictures or something, if you want,” Ellie offers.

  I shake my head. “Just go.”

  Ellie obeys, walking toward our daughter. She squats down to help Lia with her coat, zipping it up.

  “Thanks, Mommy,” I hear Lia say, her tiny voice carrying across the room to me.

  Ellie takes her hand and leads her to the door. Yeah, I’m letting them leave. I can’t be anyone’s father. That little girl deserves so much better than me.

  Besides, I gave my heart to Kate four years ago, and she took it with her to the grave. I have nothing left to offer anyone.

  As Ellie opens the front door, Lia spins around, eyes piercing into me. Then she smiles and waves her tiny hand at me. “See you tomorrow, Daddy.”

  Chapter 8

  Damian

  Goddammit!

  Shit!

  FUCK!

  I can barely see through the blur of fury as I speed down the interstate. I fucking can’t
do this. Dammit, Ellie!

  Because I have to maintain some control over the situation, I think about how this is Ellie’s fault. All she had to do was take the damn birth control pill. Why did she even have to be in Liam’s room that night? She knew I’d be broken. She fucking knew what I’d want from her!

  I can’t breathe.

  Lia’s innocent little voice repeats in my head, louder and louder. “See you tomorrow, Daddy.”

  God-fucking-damn-it!

  The tires skid over the pavement as I spin into the cemetery, my personal sanctuary. The only place I truly belong.

  I cut off the engine and leave the keys in the ignition. It’s dark outside, but I don’t need light to know where I’m going. I bypass the three headstones that usually give me the solace I crave. Right now, I need to punch something. Pound on it until this fucking ache ripping through me leaves me the hell alone.

  The elder tree protecting my loved ones serves as my relief. I’ve used it before, so it knows what to expect. My fists do too, which is why I come here instead beating the snot out of a bag at the gym. Here, the bark rips into my knuckles with each hit. It hurts like fucking hell, and I beat into the trunk harder and harder until blood I can’t see slides into my palms and mixes with the sweat pooling inside my fists. Still, I don’t stop.

  I can’t.

  I have to fucking undo this mess I’ve created.

  Voices and images filter into my mind. The pain and regret in Ellie’s eyes. The sweetness in Lia’s smile.

  And Kate. There’s always Kate.

  “It’ll be okay. I promise,” she’d told me.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” my own shaky voice echoes back at me.

  “I won’t.”

  It’s only when I no longer feel the pain that I drop to my knees and cover my face with my bloody palms. I never should have asked to see her. What the fuck was I thinking?

  I stare at the three tombstones peering back me. Nora Lowell. Liam Lowell. Kate Browdy. The three people I’ve loved more than anything in this world. I came here for this reminder tonight.

  Because of me, they’re dead. I never want to forget that.

  And I won’t—I won’t add Lia to this list.

  Ellie is gone, and she took Lia with her. That’s what was supposed to happen. They’re safer far away from me. I won’t go after them, won’t call them. Ever.

  My gaze lands on the red roses on Kate’s grave. Then, slowly, it rises to her name. Kathryn “Katie” Browdy. I slide my focus over to the marble stone beside Kate’s—to Liam’s.

  “Lia Kathryn,” I whisper into the chilled air. I barely get the words out. Lia-Kat is such a stupid name to call her. She’s not fucking named after a pet. No, she was named for two of the most amazing people to ever set foot on this godforsaken earth. Two people who deserve to still be here.

  “You should see her,” I say. “Mom, she’s the spitting image of you when you were young. Big blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a smile that will make you melt. Liam, your girlfriend is a natural as a mother, but I’ll bet you already knew she would be. You probably figured she’d have your kid instead of mine.” I snicker. “Hell, I did too.”

  I pause when I come to Kate. What do I say to her? The question I always ask myself rears again: how do I tell her how bad I fucked up after she died?

  I spent so much time apologizing to her when she was alive, though. I guess that hasn’t changed. “I’m sorry, Katie. I have no excuse other than I’m an asshole. But Ellie named her after you if that’s any consolation.” I pause and run a hand through my hair. “God, Kate, I wish you were here. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t fuck things up even more.”

  I wait in silence for an answer that won’t come. Even so, I brush a bloodstained finger over her name again, begging for a reply. “Please, Katie. Tell me how to fix this.”

  ~*~

  It’s sometime after midnight when I get back home. Dylan is lounging out on the sofa, nursing a beer and watching some crappy sci-fi movie.

  “Hey dude,” he says. When I don’t answer right away, he glances up at me. “Damn, man. You look like shit.”

  I don’t have to examine myself to know what he sees. Dried blood coats my hands and clothes. I probably have it smeared on my face too.

  “Please don’t tell me you got into another bar fight,” he says.

  “I wish.” I nod at his drink. “Any more of that?”

  “In the fridge. Help yourself.”

  Unlike me, Dylan usually sticks to the lighter stuff. Tonight, I’ll drink his cheap beer, though. I want to stay sober to remind myself that I’m making the right choice in letting Lia go. I can’t run off and do something I’ll regret because I’m drunk.

  I don’t wash the blood off me before I yank two bottles from the refrigerator, pop the top on one, and sink down in the armchair. This whole scene is unusual for me, which is why Dylan eyes me instead of going back to his movie. I down half the beer in one swig, and Dylan’s eyebrows quirk upward.

  “What happened tonight?” he asks.

  Dylan and I don’t do the heart-to-heart thing. However, tonight I make an exception. I blame it on Dylan’s shitty beer.

  “Ellie came by to tell me we have a kid together,” I say, then top off the beer.

  Dylan’s eyes widen. “A kid?”

  I open the second bottle. “Yep. She’s three and a half.”

  “Holy shit, dude,” Dylan says, sitting up.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Wait.” Dylan’s brows furrow. “Three and a half?”

  My roommate is stellar when it comes to repeating what I’ve told him.

  “Three and a fucking half,” I confirm.

  I wait while he puts it together. Dude’s smart. Won’t take him long.

  He shakes his head. “After Kate.”

  Dylan knew about my “relationship” with Ellie. He never approved, but he kept his mouth shut, which I appreciated.

  “Yeah. After Kate,” I verify.

  “Okay then, what’re you going to do?”

  I take a long drink, then shake my head. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? You serious?”

  “One hundred percent. They’re both better off without me.”

  Dylan takes a second to digest what I said. “So, Ellie just came here to tell you she had your kid three plus years ago, and that’s it? She didn’t ask for help or child support or anything?”

  “No. She earned herself a spot on some big research project in the Great Barrier Reef for two months and needed someone to watch Lia during that time.”

  “Lia as in Liam?”

  “Lia Kathryn to be exact.”

  “Fuck, man.”

  “Tell me about it.” I suck down more beer.

  “And you don’t want Lia while she’s gone?”

  The whole evening replays before me, and I have no regrets. Slowly, I shake my head again.

  “Why the hell not, man?” Dylan asks, his voice raising some. I understand why. Dylan’s dad bailed on his family before he was even born. Tough stuff to deal with. “She’s your daughter.”

  “Because I’ll make a shitty-ass father, that’s why,” I tell him as I finish off the bottle.

  “So you’re just gonna let them leave and never see her again.”

  “That’s the plan. They fly out tomorrow, back to the sunny skies of Florida where they belong. Far, far away from me.”

  Dylan pauses for a moment, incredulous. “Let me give this to you straight, man.” He leans forward. “You are a fucking coward, Damian. A selfish, fucking coward. You have the opportunity to get to know your own daughter, and you’re going to squander it for what? So you can spend the summer drunk off your ass, scoring with a bunch of chicks who don’t give a damn?” He shakes his head, pissed off at me. “You think if you let her go now you won’t lose her, but dude, from where I’m standing, it looks like you already have.”

  ~*~

  When I wake up th
e next morning, my hands are unrecognizable. Still covered in blood with strips of skin hanging off them, they resemble raw hamburger. I shower and let the soap slither under what’s left of my skin. It stings, but I can’t go to the hospital on my first day with knuckles like this.

  Working for my dad should be something I never want to do again, yet other than at the cemetery, it’s the only other place I feel close to Kate. It’s where we first met, so I spend my summers on the oncology floor of Methodist Hospital in Des Moines.

  I wrap my hands in bandages the best I can. I’ll see if one of the nurses will help me out when I get there. Someone who won’t ask for an explanation. Yeah, right.

  Dylan’s not up when I leave. After his lecture last night, I finished off the rest of his nasty beer and went to bed. I don’t give a fuck if the dude’s studying to be a psychiatrist; he’s got to stop analyzing me. I know what the fuck I’m doing.

  At least, I did last night.

  This morning, though, I’m not so sure.

  They’re better off without me, I repeat for the thousandth time to fend off my growing impulse to keep Lia this summer.

  As I pass the counter to swipe my keys off it, a familiar swell of emotion fills my chest. The purple pony Lia gave me stands on the edge of the peninsula, and her calling me daddy rings loud and clear in my head again.

  Before I can stop myself, I stride over and pick up the toy. I can’t remember what she called these things, but this one is special to her. Because she’s a princess. The silky purple hair has a streak of pink in it. Damn horse is so fucking girly that it makes me smile thinking about Lia playing with a whole hoard of these things.

  I push the thought out of my head. Lia’s gone, and she’s not coming back, thank God. That little girl deserves more than I can ever offer. I need to get her out of my memory before I change my mind.

  On the way out to my car, I dump the toy into the garbage.

  ~*~

  “From the gym?” Leslie, Kate’s favorite nurse, asks. It’s clear she doesn’t believe me.