Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

  “Yeah, about that. I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Right,” I say, nervous because my guess is he doesn’t want to talk about school. “Um, let’s sit on the sofa.”

  Blake follows me to the tiny living room. I curl up on one end of the sofa, legs tucked under me, and Blake sits beside me. With both hands cupped around the warm Starbucks cardboard, I take another drink to calm my growing anxiety.

  “When you left Cairns, you said you wanted time,” he says. “It’s been three months, Elizabeth.”

  “I know,” I answer. I let out a breath before I continue. “Look, Blake, I…I have thought about things. And for a while, I thought I had it all figured out, but then…I don’t know. Lia grew pretty attached to Damian, and…”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “What?” I say too loudly. “Sorry, I…why would you ask that?”

  Blake leans forward, his elbows sitting on his knees. “Lia.”

  “Lia? What do you mean?”

  “She said that Damian loves you.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Blake,” I say, waving it off.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, of course. We have a history, but that’s all.”

  “I’m not blind, Elizabeth. I’ve watched you tense up every time Lia mentions him, and I’ve seen you get that happy little puppy-love gleam in your eyes when you answer. That ‘history’ you have seems to run deeper than you let on. To be fair, I think I deserve to know what’s going on. What was there between the two of you?”

  I lift my face to the ceiling, push a hand through my hair, and sweep the loose strands to one side. The past is the last place I want to go again tonight.

  I drop my arm and peer over at Blake. “What was between us? Pain. A lot of pain.”

  Blake clenches his jaw. “And what? Lia was born from the tears?”

  I hesitate. “Actually, yes. Damian’s tears, not mine. Because by that time, mine had run dry.”

  Blake is quiet, carefully studying me. Waiting.

  “Before Damian, there was Liam—Damian’s brother. We were together for all four years of high school, had plans of getting married. But then he was killed in a car accident, and I ran to Damian, the only other person I knew who shared my pain. He starting drinking and doing other things, but together, we mourned, we cried—we survived.

  “And then Damian found someone. A girl who had cancer. He eventually lost her too, and we conceived Lia the night of Kate’s funeral when Damian was at his most broken.”

  I take a deep breath before I continue. “I left Iowa because of Damian, Blake. Because I couldn’t stay there and watch him destroy himself again. Because…” I break our connection when the sting of emotion burns my eyes.

  Blake brushes the hair away from my face in time to see a tear slide down my cheek. With a thumb, he wipes it off, but I can’t face him.

  “Because you loved him?” Blake asks.

  All I can do is nod.

  “And now? Do you still?”

  I don’t want to answer this question. If I say it out loud, I can’t take it back.

  I bite my lip, squeeze my eyelids shut.

  Blake is on his knees in front of me. He cups my face, forcing me to look at him. “Do you love him, Elizabeth?”

  Slowly, I feel myself nod. “Yes. Yes, I love him.” Hearing myself say the words makes them more real than the pain illuminating Blake’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Blake. I’m so sorry.”

  Blake leans back, his touch falling away from me.

  “Blake,” I repeat when he doesn’t say anything.

  Silence stretches out the distance between us, and that earlier emptiness in my stomach expands. Suddenly, I’m cold.

  I don’t know how long we sit there, avoiding each other. Time always lies in these situations.

  Finally, Blake eases up off the floor. His gaze meets mine again, his brilliant brown irises duller than I’ve ever seen them. He slides his hands in his pockets like he’s holding himself back from touching me. “I’ll pick Lia up in the morning and take her to the beach so you can catch up.”

  “Blake,” I start. “I don’t want—”

  “Is ten o’clock okay? Then we’ll meet you for pizza at six?”

  “Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

  “See you tomorrow, Elizabeth,” he says, walks around the sofa, and lets himself out.

  Chapter 30

  Damian

  I’m swamped. Between homework, prep-classes, and upcoming finals, I don’t go to the cemetery this week. I don’t meet Dad for dinner, either. Hell, I haven’t seen Dylan in three days because I’ve been camped up in my room and the damn library. But if I’m going to ace the MCAT exam next week, show Ellie I’ve changed, I’ve got to keep my head in the game.

  “Another?” Daphne, the waitress asks, nodding toward my empty glass of whiskey.

  “Nah, I’m good. Thanks,” I say.

  She doesn’t leave though. Instead, she slides closer to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Whatcha working on?”

  I’m at Max’s for a change in scenery. And with Daphne taking care of me tonight, I must say, the scenery is nice.

  Her shirt is unbuttoned low enough to show her D-cup rack, and she’s all over me. Oddly enough, I’ve only tapped this girl once, and that was a year ago. After that she got herself a boyfriend and has been off the market—until now, apparently.

  I float my gaze up her body, enjoying every curve, dip, and show of bare skin.

  “I have a big exam tomorrow morning,” I say, unable to keep my eyes on hers with those sweet-ass tits—one hundred percent natural, by the way—in my face.

  “Oh yeah?” Daphne sits down beside me and crosses a leg over mine. Her short skirt rides up her thigh as she does it. “Is that why you’re a one-drink man tonight?”

  I can’t help myself; I graze my fingers over the inner thigh that’s on top of me. Soft. Smooth. Hot.

  “Something like that,” I say.

  Daphne grins and tucks her lower lip between her teeth in a moan.

  I watch her eyelids close as I move further in between her legs. She rolls her hips toward me so she can open herself up more. It’s not much, but it’s enough to find out that she’s wearing crotchless panties.

  And she’s already wet.

  I glance at my laptop. Organic chemistry or Daphne?

  Uncomfortable, I reach down to adjust my hard-as-granite dick, but Daphne’s hand makes it there first.

  “I can take care of that for you, Damian. However you’d like me to,” she whispers in my ear, her breath warm on my neck.

  Holy fuck.

  I’ve been so focused on school—on Ellie—I haven’t been laid in forever. Last time, I was with Cassie for three days straight after Ellie and Lia left. In an effort to earn Ellie and my daughter back, though, I’ve taken more cold showers than any man should have to.

  Right now, I’m dying for a good fuck, so it surprises me when I say, “Not tonight, Daphne.”

  In response, she cups me a little harder. “You sure about that? ’Cause I can make it worth your while.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know. But I can’t.” I pull away so I’m no longer touching her.

  “Daphne!” Max hollers from the bar.

  “Duty calls,” she says. Then she licks my neck up to my jaw. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Daphne flashes me a seductive grin, swings her leg off me, and stands up so her ass slides up to my elbow. She slithers her skirt down to cover her cheeks before she walks away.

  I watch as her hips sway side to side until she disappears behind the bar—and wonder what the hell I’m doing.

  I reach for my phone to remind myself. Turn it on and stare at the goofy chocolate milk smile grinning back at me. Then I swipe through until Ellie’s picture fills the screen.

  Yeah, I gotta get out of here before Daphne comes back and breaks me. I gather my stuff and dump it in my bag.<
br />
  I need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.

  ~*~

  “Cheers, dude,” Dylan says, holding up his cheap beer. “It’s over.”

  I do the same. “That was one helluva a test.”

  “Damn straight.”

  I’m beat. The exam robbed me of all the brain energy I own, and then some.

  “How long until our scores arrive?” Dylan asks.

  “Four weeks, give or take,” I answer, killing half the bottle in one swig. “Until then, we have finals to keep our asses busy.”

  Dylan grins at me in fatherly sort of way. I cringe, thinking he’s going to go all Freud on me again.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m proud of you, man.”

  “Oh shit. Don’t lay down an estrogen blast on me, dude.”

  Dylan laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just—”

  “Yeah, I know,” I say. “Bottoms up.”

  We knock back our beers and grab another.

  “I can’t think tonight,” Dylan admits and tosses me an Xbox remote. “We’ve earned it.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  ~*~

  Ellie

  I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to come up for air. Since admitting to Blake I’m in love with Damian, the emotions I worked so hard to control have barreled to the surface. Damian fills my every waking thought. Memories sideswipe me, overtaking me until I break down.

  But I fight it.

  I have to. Damian was right—he’s not cut out to be a father. No matter how much my heart longs for him, I have to do what’s best for Lia. Even so, I’m dying to call him. I won’t, of course.

  Besides, what would I even say? I screamed at him last time, blamed him for everything and conveniently ignored how I carry some guilt too. Maybe if I’d have told him about Lia in the first place, none of this would have happened.

  I look up at the pictures of her on the wall. In a straight line, there’s eight total—one taken every six months of her life, starting the day she was born. God, she was such a tiny thing, just over six pounds. I remember when the nurse gave her to me how worried I was that I’d break her.

  I didn’t know anything about being a mom back then. I called my own more often than I’d like to admit because I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. But I grew up. Learned how to be a parent by experiencing it, and I realize now that I robbed Damian of the same opportunities over the years. Technically, his unrefined parenting skills are on me.

  I stare at the Christmas tree box in the corner. Blake’s going to help put it up this weekend. I take a sip of chardonnay. Home for the Holidays plays from the iPod, and it crosses my mind how nice that would be. There’s nothing like a white Iowa Christmas.

  Damian’s offer to fly us up rings loud in my ears. What’s the worst that can happen if I say yes?

  Either way, I need to get control of myself first. The sooner, the better too. Because if I don’t, I’ll sink to the bottom of this whole mess I created.

  Chapter 31

  Ellie

  “Can we put a star on top instead of the angel?” Lia asks.

  “Let me see what I can find,” Blake says, rummaging through the one tote of Christmas decorations I own. “All I see is an angel.”

  Lia’s shoulders slump. “An angel is fine, I guess.”

  Blake grins at me and I toss him a shrug. “How about I find a star for next year?” he asks her.

  She places an index finger over her lips. “Hmmm. Deal.” She sticks out her hand, and Blake shakes it.

  “Okay, let’s get this angel on top, and I think we’re done,” he tells her.

  The tension between Blake and me has eased in the last weeks. It’s had its repercussions, though. Blake spends less time here. He doesn’t call unless it has something to do with Lia. When he comes over, he actually knocks on the door, and he never falls asleep on my sofa anymore. When it comes to me, you could fit three couples between us most of the time.

  “You staying for a movie tonight?” I ask. It’s been tradition that when we put up the tree, we drink hot chocolate and watch Miracle on 34th Street.

  Blake glances at Lia, then back at me. “I actually can’t. I have other plans.”

  “Oh,” I say, and I’m sure I’m not hiding my surprise well. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” Lia says, stepping closer to him.

  “Lia,” I warn.

  “No, Mommy. Blake always stays with us tonight.”

  “Sweetie,” I start, but Blake interrupts, reaching out to Lia. “I’m sorry, little Lia. I kind of forgot that we were doing this tonight.”

  “Then cancel your plans,” she says with a pout.

  “I can’t, but I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

  “At the art center?”

  “If you still want to go.”

  Lia studies him, her long lashes slowly coming together as she averts her gaze then brings it back up to him. “Yes, I want to go,” she finally says.

  Blake laughs. “Okay, then we have a date.”

  “Is that where you’re going tonight? On a date?” Lia asks.

  “Lia,” I breathe out, and I’m not sure why her question bothers me the way it does.

  Blake twists his head to me. He holds my attention a second before facing Lia again. “Yes, actually I am.”

  I’m not sure what I expected, but this definitely wasn’t it. Four years of Blake hanging out with me, seeing only me, and now he’s dating. I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Just…it happened so…fast.

  Blake kisses Lia’s forehead. “I have to go pick her up now.”

  His eyes meet mine, but only for a split second. “Have a good night, Elizabeth,” he says.

  “You too,” I murmur, but he’s already at the door.

  Lia wanders over and wraps her arms around my legs. “Mommy?”

  “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “I guess it’s just you and me now, huh?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, even though I already know.

  “Daddy left us. Blake left us. We’re all alone.”

  I lower myself to the floor, pull her against me, and kiss her head. I don’t say anything because there’s nothing to say. I pushed Damian away. I pushed Blake away. So Lia’s right—we’re all alone.

  ~*~

  Damian

  The Underground is the place to be tonight. The parking lot is near full already. Finals are over, and it’s time to break loose, knock back some shots, and lose control. Hell, I deserve it.

  I’ve worked my ass off this semester, harder than I ever have. Not to mention the lack of drinking and sex. These last few months, I became my brother with all the studying.

  Already buzzed from the liquor at home, I hit the bar first. Slide onto a stool and scan the crowd.

  “What’ll it be tonight, Damian?” Chris asks.

  “Give me the hard stuff, man. Death wish.”

  Chris’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you serious? Do you have one?”

  I smirk. “Play hard or go home.”

  Chris shakes his head. “You got it, man.”

  “Damian,” a familiar voice wafts up from behind me. I grin as her arms circle my waist, one hand taking a slight detour a little further south. “Long time.”

  I grab her wrist and press her palm into me. She breathes out a laugh in my ear.

  I spin around to face her. Cassie’s hair is half up with strands falling around her face. She’s wearing a strapless top and skintight black pants. I squeeze her ass, bringing her closer to me.

  “Got any plans tonight?” she asks.

  Cassie wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here, but I’m game. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a free agent, and Cassie is all sorts of fun.

  “I do now,” I say.

  Her cherry lips curve up in sexy little smile. “Your place, three a.m.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Cassie shoots me a wink, and I watch that sweet
ass sway as it walks away.

  “Death wish,” Chris says.

  I take a drink, and it’s damn good. The burn is exactly what I needed.

  “Mix me another, man,” I say.

  “Dude!”

  “Hey, I’m in it to win it.”

  “Or die.”

  I snicker. “Nah. Load me up.”

  ~*~

  Ellie

  I’m doing it.

  I realize this makes me absolutely insane. Straitjacket crazy, probably, but I can’t take it anymore. I have to talk to him even if it means I’m crying myself to sleep tonight.

  Lia’s in bed, and I don’t have much to lose because he’s on my mind constantly anyway.

  I can’t believe I’m actually considering taking him up on his offer to fly Lia and me to Iowa for Christmas. I mean, that’s why I’m calling him, right? To accept?

  When he first pitched the idea, he said something about proving himself to us. Maybe he realizes he needs to let go of the past. Whatever it is, I’m ready to talk. Work some crap out and tell him to his face that I’m sorry for keeping Lia from him. Ease his conscience over Lia’s kidnapping. I never should have put all that on him—it could have happened to anyone. Plus, if I go, I could spend the holidays with my parents for the first time since Lia’s been born.

  The last six years have been hard on everyone, and it would be nice to have a taste of what “normal” is like again. Back when things were simple and easy, and what I looked forward to most was Liam’s white Mercedes MI 350 parked outside my house, waiting for me. Before life as I knew it shattered right in front of me, leaving me a shambled mess of the girl I used to be.

  Damian’s the same way, and the fact is, I don’t blame him for the path he chose. Mostly because I chose it too, only in a watered-down form. But I also don’t carry the weight he does.

  I still remember the night he broke down and told me, though I doubt he remembers any of it. It was late, and he’d been drinking—a lot—when he told me.

  Rain pelted against his bedroom window, the wind howling and shaking the panes. Hail knocked on the glass, but I barely heard it.