Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

  I grab a box and empty the drawers I’d cleared out for her clothes. As I go, I’m reminded of this same scene at Kate’s house, only in reverse. Then, I was moving in because I didn’t want to miss a single second with her.

  I lift out the My Little Pony jammies I bought Lia on our first day. “Can I get two?” she’d asked, and I couldn’t say no. I look down and pull out the second, identical nightgown. Since I don’t do much laundry, I’d insisted on her picking out a couple more pairs, but I don’t remember her wearing anything else to bed except these.

  I fold them up and set them in the box. Soon, there’s nothing left in the drawers. I close the box flaps, tape it up, and move on to the next box. This one I fill with books, movies, and her collection of ponies. The only thing left when I’m finished is her bed.

  That I doubt Ellie wants. Maybe I’ll give it to Goodwill.

  I label the boxes with the address Ellie texted me. Then I carry them to my car. With the last one in my arms, I peer over the room to make sure I have everything. It’s empty. My gaze lands on the Twilight Sparkle Lia gave me, sitting back on top of my dresser. I stare at it for a second, recalling the day she gave it to me.

  My chest tightens, and I have to get away.

  I shake the memory away, flip off the light, and close the door behind me.

  ~*~

  I’m glad I kept Cassie’s phone number. She’s been a useful distraction since Lia left. What makes it better is that I don’t have to think when she’s here. She and the liquor do all the work until I’m nice and numb.

  Then I wake up, and the familiar pang of emptiness engulfs me again. I guess it’s better than pain.

  A million times I’ve thought about calling Ellie and Lia to check up, but each time I go to do it, I back out. If Ellie wanted to talk to me, she would have called by now. She hasn’t. I royally fucked up, and I don’t deserve to be forgiven by either of them.

  Even at my weekly visits to the cemetery, I have nothing to say. I stare at Kate’s headstone, and all I can think about is Ellie and Lia and how I’ve disappointed them. There are no comforting words I can give them for what I’ve done.

  I avoid Dylan as much as I can. I swear, the dude watches me like a stalker and it’s fucking creepy. My guess is that my Dad put him up to it, since he’s all too familiar with my track record with this shit. I guess I can’t blame him for trying.

  “Look, man, I’m okay,” I tell Dylan one night as I pour myself a tumbler of Captain. “Go to The Underground or something. Live it up.”

  Classes start up again tomorrow, and the club is where everyone will be. Everyone except me—I’m not in the mood tonight. It’s lame, but my plan is to have a few drinks and crash early. Cassie’s not even coming over.

  “Nah. I’m staying in. I have an eight o’clock in the morning,” he says and slumps onto the sofa. Kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “Assassin’s Creed?”

  I can’t think of anything better to do. “Sure, let’s do it.”

  A few hours and the rest of the rum later, I jump in the shower. I stand there, letting the water rush over my back, and suddenly Ellie’s in front of me. Like she used to be the mornings after she stayed all night. Her hair is tangled, lips full and pink, and her nipples erect. She steps toward me, her gaze shifting from my eyes down my body and back up.

  “I had fun last night,” she hints. “I have some extra time before class this morning.”

  Damn, I must have drunk more than I thought.

  I’m quick to catch on. And with how awesomely tight her thighs wrap around me, the slippery shower wall will be no match for how I’ll use it.

  I grab her hips and yank her into me. I lean down as she tilts her head to the side, giving me better access to that succulent neck I’ve always loved to devour. Her arms circle me, fingers trailing over my bare skin and making me want her even more.

  Cassie has nothing on Ellie. My mind-number is pure pleasure, whereas Ellie is a craving you can’t get enough of, even after you’ve had it.

  I don’t think when I pin her up against the wall and drink her in. There’s more than raw desire there, and it’s not the first time I’ve seen it in Ellie’s eyes. I just didn’t recognize what it was back then.

  I swallow, studying her. Delicate fingertips work their way to my chest and trace over the Trinity heart tat. I love how she touches me with gentle strokes, as if I mean something to her.

  Has she always done that?

  I press my forehead against hers and tip up her chin. She blinks, confused, probably because I usually don’t take this kind of time. Normally, I dive in and take what I need from her. But I don’t want to do that right now. No, now I want to taste her. Hold her.

  Love her.

  Closing my eyes, I lean down to kiss her. Suck her lip into my mouth and keep it there because it’s so good I don’t want to let it go. I do, though, and open my eyes to see what I’ve missed in the last few seconds.

  Ellie’s pale blue irises peer back at me. “Damian? Are you okay?”

  I shake my head. I’m so far from being okay. I’m in the shower with a memory of her, and I want so fucking bad for it to be real.

  “Hey,” she says, her fingers twisting through my hair. “Letting someone go doesn’t mean you forget them. It means you love them from here and move on with your life like they would have wanted.”

  My throat goes dry at Ellie’s familiar words. The ones she spoke to me the morning of Kate’s burial.

  Kate.

  I squeeze my eyelids shut again. I’ve had enough of this shit, and I need Ellie out of my head. This is what I have Cassie for, but she’s fucking out of town tonight.

  “Damian,” a voice says, but it’s not Ellie’s this time.

  It’s Kate’s.

  “Damian,” she repeats, and I’m close to breaking down. “Please.”

  Palms as soft as I remember caress my face, coaxing my eyes open. She’s there, light auburn hair falling in and framing her face like when I first met her. God, she’s beautiful.

  “Katie,” I breathe out, not sure whether or not to believe this.

  She smiles at me, a fingertip gliding over my lips.

  “Katie, I—”

  “Shh,” she says. “Damian, listen to me. You need to move on.”

  “I can’t,” I murmur.

  “Yes, you can. You have to.”

  I’m done trying to hold myself together. The shower’s spray mingles with the tears burning in my eyes. “I miss you so, so much, Katie. I’m sorry. Sorry that I couldn’t save you,” I sob.

  “Oh, baby. Don’t put that on yourself. Besides, you did save me.”

  I shake my head while she nods.

  “You did,” she says. “The months I spent with you were the best of my life, and I wouldn’t change them for even one more day if that day didn’t include you. You were my ray of sunshine, Damian. My shining star.”

  Something is lodged in my throat, and I can’t respond.

  Her hand slips down my chest and covers my heart, over the tattoo. “This no longer belongs to me. It’s time, Damian.” She rises up on her tip-toes and lightly presses her lips against mine. “Let me go.”

  And then she’s gone, and I’m alone.

  I don’t have a clue what just happened, nor do I want to think about it. I shut off the shower and shake the loose water from my hair. Then, I step out on the mat, reaching for a towel that’s not hanging up on the bar.

  “Shit,” I mumble.

  I open the linen closet to get a clean one, but I stop dead in my tracks. Because directly in front of me, arranged in the shape of a heart, are Lia’s bottles of bubble bath.

  ~*~

  I couldn’t stay home. That was some messed-up shit fucking with my head. I consider heading to Max’s Place to unwind, but halfway there, I decide I don’t want the demons that manifest themselves in the quiet. So, I do a U-turn and go in the opposite direction—to pounding subs and loose women.

  At the counte
r of The Underground, I order a beer and a shot. I’ve only been here for an hour, and I’m pretty sure it’s obvious I’m over the limit. But Chris doesn’t care and loads me up.

  It doesn’t take long for me to spot tonight’s pain-reliever. She’s a busty brunette, sitting a few stools over. Two empty shot glasses sit in front of her, and Chris gives her another.

  Dressed in jeans and a simple black top, she’s clearly not the party-girl type I enjoy picking up, but something about her draws me in. She stares forward, and I catch her expression through the reflection of the mirror lining the back wall of the bar. Her eyes are glossed over, and she’s not wearing the layers of makeup the other chicks in the joint sport.

  This girl is here for one reason and one reason only.

  I signal to Chris to bring me my next round, then I get up and slide in beside her. She doesn’t look at me, though, as she knocks her shot back.

  “Another fireball,” she says.

  Chris pops the cap off my next beer, and I take a deep swig.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She ignores me until her next shot is in her hand. Then she gives me a small glance before she downs it.

  “Another.” She buries her face in her palms for a second before she pushes her fingers through her hair.

  “On me,” I offer.

  She cocks her head to the side, her dark hair falling over a shoulder, and studies me. Probably wondering if it’s a line.

  I hold up my beer. “I get it.”

  Her gaze drops for a second then lifts back up to me. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  With a finger, she rounds the rim of her new glass, staring at it.

  “You don’t want to drink it,” I say, my eyes flitting up to her.

  She doesn’t look at me. “Don’t I?”

  “Nah. It won’t fix anything.”

  “Really?” She nods at my bottle. “And that will?

  I shake my head. “Nope. It’s not magical.”

  “If that’s true, why’re you here?”

  “Because sometimes being numb is the best answer I’ve got. Better than feeling the pain.”

  “Does that work?”

  “For a little while. Until it wears off.”

  A little smirk appears on her face. “And then what?

  I inhale deeply. Blow it out slow. “Then you have to face reality and hope it doesn’t kill you.”

  Quiet, she finally shifts her eyes to meet my gaze. “You seem to have lived.”

  I reach across her and pick up her drink. “This, baby, isn’t living. This is surviving,” I say, repeating Kate. I down it, no longer feeling the burn as it coats my throat. “What I do know is that it’s easier when you’re not alone.”

  “That’s good, because you owe me another drink.”

  I laugh. “How about we skip the drink and move on to other activities.”

  The girl’s eyebrows shoot up. “You asking if you can take me home with you?”

  “Misery loves company.”

  “You’ve done this before,” she says, and it’s not a question.

  “What can I say? I’m a survivor.”

  She sighs, considering my offer. By the looks of her bloodshot eyes, she’s a lightweight and probably a good girl. My guess is that she’s never done anything like this before.

  “All right,” she says, picking up her purse. “Show me how to survive this.”

  I lead her through the club, my hand on the small of her back. We move slow since she’s having a hard time walking. Five fireballs, to my knowledge, is all she’s had. But she knocked ’em back one after the other.

  I get her to my car, and she slides in. I shouldn’t be driving, but when’s that ever stopped me? Except when I was with Kate. Her pleading eyes when she asked me not to drink and drive always, always guts me when I leave the bar.

  And tonight, Ellie’s disappointed gaze joins Kate’s in my mind. All those times, though, Ellie never said a word about it. Until our last night together.

  That’s the look I see in my mind now. The tortured one I didn’t notice then because I was too busy drowning in my own sorrow to notice hers.

  On the way to my house, the girl beside me says nothing. She fidgets with her hands in her lap as she watches the world pass by out the window. I wonder if she’ll renege on her decision to come with me.

  In the garage, I open the door for her. She never offered her name, and I’m not going to ask. Names make shit personal.

  She stumbles over the step. I wrap an arm around her and walk with her into the kitchen, then to my bedroom.

  I don’t bother with the light. The girl follows me in, and I lock the door behind her. In the glow of the moonlight creeping in through the window, I see her purse her lips. She stares at my bed, probably thinking that if she’s going to back out, now is the time.

  I stand behind her. Smooth my palms over her shoulders. Her purse falls to the floor, and her whole upper body lifts as she inhales. Slowly, she faces me, and I half expect her to ask me to take her home.

  She doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt. Usually, I don’t let girls do this, but for some reason I let her. One at a time, they pop free, and I roll my shoulders back so the shirt falls to the floor.

  “My turn,” I say.

  I skim up her sides until I have her arms above her head. Then I work my way down, grazing the sides of her breasts as I go. I don’t pause to enjoy them. That’s not what tonight is about.

  At the bottom, I grab the hem and pull the shirt off her. I toss it behind me. Her skin is cool under my touch, and I feel the goosebumps poking up all over it.

  I circle my arms around her and unfasten her bra. She shivers against me, but doesn’t lean in. Warm breath pours over my chest as she exhales.

  I back her up to the edge of the bed. Finally, her eyes open and they lock onto mine. Even in the dark, they’re familiar because they’re the same eyes I see when I look into the mirror. The same ones I peered into for two years with Ellie.

  Pain-filled, hurt, and desperate.

  Hers is new pain. Fresh. And it’s breaking her down. Soon, it will tear her up and leave a gaping hole in her heart that nothing, nothing, will ever be able to fill.

  Even drunk off my ass, it doesn’t feel right to take advantage of her. It never does, but I push through it like the asshole I am. I lower her onto the mattress and slide the black bottoms and panties off her hips. She doesn’t move as I step out of my jeans. Hell, she doesn’t even look at me. When her head turns to the side to avoid me, I know I should stop.

  But then, she opens her legs wide for me. Inviting me inside to merge our pain and extinguish it until morning.

  I glide my fingertips up the insides of her thighs. She lifts up a little to meet me. A puff of air leaves her lungs and exits with a soft gasp.

  I’d rather not spend the time on foreplay, and I don’t know if she expects it. I just want to get inside her and be done. Still, I can’t do just nothing. It’s better for me if her desire rises and releases with mine.

  Between her legs, I caress, massage, and tease. There’s no laughter or giggles or breathless bursts of passion. Only small movements of her hips as her body gets ready for me.

  I position myself on top of her. I’m not thinking about how this isn’t what I’d pictured for tonight. Or that this girl really doesn’t want to be here. Or even that the whole reason I’m doing this isn’t to wipe away Kate’s voice from my head like is standard for me. I want the last eight weeks gone.

  My gaze wanders over the girl under me. She’s staring at me now, her lips parted and puffy.

  “Please?” she begs, a tear dripping from an eye. “I don’t want to feel anymore.”

  That’s when it punches me in the stomach and knocks the wind out of me.

  This girl isn’t me—she’s Ellie. After Liam died.

  It’s why I chose this girl. I’m not thinking about Kate. I’m thinking a
bout Ellie!

  I push my fingers through my hair. “This isn’t what you want.”

  “You said—”

  “I was wrong,” I cut her off. “Truth is, you’ll wake up tomorrow with another layer of pain to add to the one you already carry.”

  I hand her the clothes from the floor, turn away from her, and flip on the light.

  “Sometimes it just has to hurt,” I say.

  Behind me, I can hear her get dressed. It takes her a while, and when there’s no more noise I spin around. She’s on her knees beside Lia’s bed, smoothing her hand over the blanket.

  “You have a daughter?” she asks.

  I definitely don’t want to go there, but the way her voice cracks does something to me, and I answer, “Yes. But she’s gone with her mother. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.”

  The girl lifts her face to me, tears streaming like rain. “Why?”

  “Because I messed up.”

  “Every parent messes up. Don’t let that stop you. If you love her, fix things. Before it’s too late.”

  I close the distance between us and kneel down beside her. “What happened to you?”

  “Today, I buried my little girl. She was riding her bike outside. I told her a thousand times not to cross that road, but…but she did. And…” She sobs, dropping her head into her hands. “I should have…done something. She was only four years old, and now…” She looks up at me. “Don’t lose her. Do whatever it takes, because you may never get another chance.”

  ~*~

  After I take her home and give her the number to a good therapist, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

  I’m a fucking disaster, and I don’t know what else to do. I typically only cave on the anniversary of her death, but tonight it’s calling to me.

  I dig out Kate’s diary from under my bed. The box I keep it in also contains her hospital wristband, a lock of her hair, and the letter she wrote me.

  I’m not looking for anything specific, just something from her. Something to keep her in my head and Ellie out.