What am I going to do with this man?
Chapter Thirty
It’s Wednesday, and I’m in the garage at Ahz. The Mustang is parked down the aisle, and the sight of it makes my heart flutter.
The last time I saw Damon was at the hospital and all I wanted was for him to crawl into bed and hold me. My emotions are tangled when it comes to him.
I’m passionately in love with him, but I can’t settle for anything less than all of him. Growing up, I never fantasized about loving a man who could only love me halfway.
My panic rises when I reach the door. I bend over, trying to put my head between my knees so that I don’t faint.
“Are you okay?” His voice startles me as he rushes forward.
“Yes. Fine. Feeling a little lightheaded. I guess I still get nervous driving after the accident,” I lie. The only thing I’m nervous about is this meeting with him.
We walk together into the restaurant. The maître d takes us to a private table.
“You look awful. You need more sleep, and you need to eat better.”
“Thank you. Saying I look awful starts dinner off perfectly.” Sarcasm oozes from me.
“I’m sorry. It’s been several days since I saw you, and you’ve lost weight. You don’t look rested. Despite that, you’re still beautiful.”
“I don’t need to worry about my diet because Greta feeds me daily. That is no doubt, a directive from you.”
“If she’s bringing you lunch, she’s doing it on her own. I have no control over my staff any longer. They circled the wagons around you. They won’t answer questions or tell me anything. I’ve tried to check on you. I ask Trevor, and he hangs up on me. Greta won’t even talk to me. The only information I get is from Emma—if she answers, and it’s always a curt ‘she’s fine.’”
I laugh.
“It’s not funny. I’m the damn president of my company, and none of my employees return my calls.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not funny, but believe me when I say I’ve got nothing to do with it.”
“They like you more than they like me, and I get it because I like you better than I like me, too.”
Over dinner, we sip wine and prepare ourselves for a difficult conversation. Once the coffee comes, he begins.
“Katarina, first and foremost, I need you to know I didn’t invite her to the grand opening. She came with a guy named Tory Blake, and although you saw a kiss, I didn’t kiss her.”
“I understand all that,” I tell him.
“Then why aren’t we together? Why are you not lying in my arms every night? Why do I feel like my life ended on Friday night?”
Tears prick at my eyes.
“We can’t be together because I’ll never be okay with happy and content. I want love. I want someone to love me like his life depends on it.”
“But I do.”
“You only feel that way because not loving me means losing me. The one thing I know about you is you’ll get what you want no matter the cost, and my heart is too priceless to use as a pawn.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches across the table to touch my fingers.
Just that little touch does things to me. It makes me want to forget everything that’s happened and crawl into his lap, but I can’t.
“You have to love yourself before you can love me. You have to let go of your past to have a future. You’ll never be able to love me until you let go of Mara.”
“I’m not interested in Mara.” He sits back and runs his hand through his hair. It falls messily across his forehead the way it does after we make love.
“You’re not over her. I don’t know what she did to you, but whatever it was, it put your life on hold for a decade. Will you need another to figure it out? I don’t have ten years to wait. I want to fall in love, get married, and have children. I want things you can’t give me.”
“She slept with my brother!” he screams in anguish.
What can I say to that? I’m sorry doesn’t scratch the surface.
A single tear runs down his cheek. He swipes it from his face, rises from his seat, and leaves, but I can’t move.
It didn’t happen to me, but I can imagine the pain and betrayal he feels. The two people he loved above everything else deceived him, and then one of them died before he could get closure.
Chapter Thirty-One
Damon disappears without a word. I text and call, but he doesn’t answer.
Days later, Rose calls.
“Katarina, where is my son? I haven’t heard from him. His housekeeper says he hasn’t been home since Wednesday morning.”
My heart falls to the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know, Rose. Damon and I aren’t together. We had dinner Wednesday, and he left abruptly. I haven’t seen him since.”
“I know you had a little disagreement, but I didn’t think it was something that would break you up. What happened?”
I only give her the information about what happened at Ahz. If Damon wants his mom to know the rest, he needs to tell her himself.
“I’ll help you find him.”
“Thank you.” She already sounds like the worry aged her. “I’ve lost one son, and I can’t lose another.”
I’m frozen with fear because I know what Damon looked like when he left the restaurant. He was a broken man.
I grab my purse and keys and run for the door.
My first stop is his house. I key in the code to the gate and thank God he put his house key on the ring.
I move through the house, calling his name, but he’s not there.
My clothes are strewn across his bed, making it clear he slept with them. It breaks my heart to know how much he’s hurting.
My next stop is Noble Enterprises. As soon as I enter the garage, I know he isn’t here because the Mustang is missing.
Entering Ahz, I scour the garage, but he’s not there either. I check the local hospitals and call the police to make sure he hasn’t been detained. No one has heard from him or seen him.
I drive to Griffith Park Observatory because he said he goes there to think, but I don’t find him.
I sit in the driver’s seat and think about where he’d go to feel connected or safe? It hits me, and I can’t drive fast enough.
I make it to Brentwood in record time and find his childhood home. His car is nowhere in sight, but somehow, I know he’s here. I can feel him.
I park the Charger and run to the backyard. If he isn’t here, I don’t know what I will do. The rope ladder swings in the breeze. With trepidation, I take one rung at a time.
At the top, I peek over the edge and see him curled up on his side. He hasn’t shaved in days. He’s in the same suit he wore when I saw him at Ahz, but despite being in disarray, he’s still an exquisite man.
“Damon, I’m here. I’m here, baby.” I lie down and spoon him. “Turn over and let me look at you.”
“Oh, Katarina, are you here?”
“I’m here.”
He turns and stares at me.
“I can’t do this without you. My life is nothing unless you’re in it.”
I sit up and guide his head into my lap while I run my fingers through his hair. I cradle him for over an hour.
How can I not love this man?
Looking up toward the sky to pray, I see another set of initials carved into the ceiling. The letters are mine and encased in a heart.
“Let’s go home, honey. We can clean you up, and I’ll make dinner. If you want, we’ll snuggle on the couch.”
I get him down the ladder and into the Charger.
The closer we get to his house, the more alive he becomes. As soon as we are inside, I take him upstairs, start the shower, and text his mother to tell her he’s safe.
With the jets set, I turn my attention to caring for him.
“Katarina, you don’t have to do this. I can get myself in the shower. I’m okay now.” He shrugs out of his jacket and takes off his shirt. He’s thinner—almost f
rail looking. “Thank you for coming. It’s good to know you still care.”
“I’m here because I love you, and I want to take care of you. Now, let’s get you in the shower.”
Finding a plastic bag under the sink, I wrap my cast and climb in behind him. For the next fifteen minutes, I make sure Damon is clean from head to toe.
Once out of the shower, I dry him and dress him in sweatpants and a T-shirt and tuck into his bed.
“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting you dinner.”
With a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of spaghetti in the other, I return to him.
He’s curled in on himself and looks as small and timid as a child. He faces me when I enter.
“You don’t have to stay.” I know he says that for my benefit, but I can tell that he’d prefer I stay.
“I remember a man sitting beside my hospital bed. He remained with me even though no one wanted him there but me. If you don’t want me here, then I’ll leave, but I want to stay.”
“I can’t have you stay if you plan to leave me again. I won’t survive that.” His head falls back to the bed.
I can’t leave him because I love him. He has so much shit to wade through, but I don’t expect him to do it alone.
“A while ago, we said we’d take it one kiss at a time, and I’m still willing to do that.” I sit on the bed beside him. “I’m sorry I left you when you needed me the most. I may never forgive myself for that.”
He pulls himself up and leans against the headboard.
“You were right to leave me. I was holding on to the past, but you’re wrong about one thing. I don’t love Mara. I love the memory of Mara because when she was around, so was Roman.” He reaches up and touches a strand of my hair. “When she kissed me, I felt nothing. They weren’t your lips. She had the wrong feel and taste and smell. I tried to hold on to the memory of the brother I loved, not the one who hurt me. Not the one who betrayed me.”
“What they did is unforgivable. Do you think his condition made it difficult for him to think straight? Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind.” I swirl a bite of pasta on the fork and feed him.
“I thought about that, but I can’t give him an easy out, and Mara has no excuse at all. Roman was an asshole, and she was a selfish bitch.”
He takes another bite. We continue that way, a bite and talk until the bowl is empty. With his belly full, he settles back and sighs.
“When he died that June, I tried to adopt my mother’s perception of him. What I knew in my head never matched the truth in my heart, and it messed me up. I can’t get the vision of walking in on them out of my head. When he saw me, his response was classic Roman. He looked at me and told me to go screw myself, because after having him, Mara wouldn’t have anyone else.”
“That’s awful.”
“I got my nose broken for losing a baseball mitt, and he got nothing for stealing my life. Days later, he found out about the leukemia. I never talked to him again. He died June fifteenth with no one there but our mother. I still hate him. Not because he stole my past but because he’s stealing my future.” He sets his hand on my shoulder. “You’re my future, and I won’t let him or Mara take you from me.”
His body folds around mine. He fits me like we were custom made for each other.
“It’ll be okay,” I whisper.
We slide down on the bed. He curls around me, and I’m happy to be in his arms.
“Don’t give up on me,” he whispers.
“I won’t.”
I swear he kissed me. I know he kissed me, but his words made little sense. “I’ll be back.”
I fell back to sleep and dreamed of Terminator.
I walk downstairs, expecting to find him. Instead, there’s a note on the counter.
Katarina,
Thank you for being there and giving me love I don’t deserve. I have a few things to take care of before I can offer you more but don’t doubt that I will. With you, I want everything. The house, the kids, the gray hair. Give me a little time. I’m coming back, and I hope you’ll be waiting for me.
This isn’t me running from you. It’s me clearing the path so I can run to you.
I spoke to my mother, and she knows everything. I didn’t want to put you in a position where you thought you needed to protect me. She respects you, and I never want to jeopardize the friendship you have with her.
Please take this time to think about what you want. I want it all, but I’ll take whatever you’ll offer. It wasn’t until you walked away that I realized how much I love you and how much I lost.
Yours Forever,
Damon
PS – I changed the code on the gate to 0310. It’s the day my life began. It’s the day I met you.
His letter leaves me speechless. He loves me, and I believe him.
As the days pass, I fall into a routine. Each morning, there are flowers and a handwritten note from Damon. Every one of them ends with “I love you.”
I glimpsed him climbing into the elevator once. He blew me a kiss before the door closed.
By the time I made it to his office, he was gone, but Greta handed me a note.
I love you. Wait for me.
Yours Forever,
Damon
Monday night, I dine with Chris and Trevor, who are moving in the right direction. Tuesday, Rose and I eat at the Greek restaurant and talk in-depth about the situation between Damon and Roman.
Emma spends most of her time with Anthony, but they always invite me to whatever they’re doing. I always decline because watching them makes me miss Damon more.
Rose is having a party for a colleague who is retiring and has enlisted my help.
She says I met him at the Philharmonic, but I don’t remember. Damon was right, she introduced me to everyone but the orchestra.
The extravagant affair is at her Brentwood estate this weekend, and I’m grateful she keeps me busy because left on my own, my mind wanders to Damon and what he’s up to.
As if I summoned him. His name pops up on my phone. “Damon,” I say breathlessly. “Where are you?”
“I’m close, Angel. Open the door.”
I drop my phone and run to the front door. When I swing it open, he’s standing there, wearing jeans, a snug T-shirt and a smile.
I fling myself into his arms and press my lips to his while he grabs my bottom and lifts me.
“What a greeting. Can we do that again?” His eyes are clear, and his complexion is healthy. He looks damn good.
“You want to go outside and have me open the door again? Can’t we continue the kisses?”
“Definitely kisses, and then we need to talk.”
My heart drops to my stomach. Is this where he tells me he doesn’t love me? That thought goes out the window when he kisses me again. A man who doesn’t love me or need me wouldn’t kiss me like his life depended on it.
When we’re breathless, he carries me to the couch and sets me down.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
I scoot as close to him as I can without crawling onto his lap. “Where have you been?”
He smiles. “I told you. I’m clearing a path. I sold my childhood house. I spent time at Roman’s grave. I even talked to Mara.”
I stiffen when he mentions her name. “Mara got to see you, and I didn’t?”
He tugs me onto his lap. “No, Angel. We talked on the phone.”
“Why did she do it?”
“She doesn’t know, and I’m not going to guess. I think she’s sorry. One thing I told her was we can’t ever go back. We need to move forward. She’s in the past and has no place in my future.” He caresses my cheek with his knuckles and looks deep into my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too, but why couldn’t I help you?”
“This was something I needed to do alone. That’s why I told you I’d be back and asked you to wait. I love you, Katarina. I think I loved you that first night, but I didn’t recognize the truth.”
“Will
you stay with me tonight?”
He leans in until we touch foreheads. “That sounds amazing, but I can’t. Mom’s having her shindig tomorrow, and she needs my help.”
Disappointment weighs me down.
“You’ll be there tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow and always.” He moves me from his lap and stands. “I’ll see you then.” He presses the sweetest kiss to my lips before he leaves. Only this time, I know I’ll see him again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I arrive early at Rose’s place. I still can’t get over the beauty of the gardens. The caterers set up tables throughout the space so guests can enjoy both the indoor and outdoor areas. People will arrive at six o’clock.
“You’re here.” Rose rushes over and kisses my cheek. She stands back and looks at my green maxi dress. “You look lovely.” She takes my arm and guides me to a room down a hallway.
“Feel free to wear what you’re wearing, but I shopped yesterday and found this beautiful ice-blue cocktail dress on sale at Nordie’s. You absolutely do not have to wear it, but it reminds me of the dress Damon bought you for the Philharmonic.”
“Is he here?”
“Not yet. He called and said he’s running late, but he’ll be here.”
The disappointment pulls my shoulders forward. I miss him because I miss our life together. I miss sex, his smile, and his bossiness. I miss everything about him.
Rose lifts my chin. “Don’t worry, he’s coming.” She nods toward the dress hanging from a knob on the nearby dresser. “Wear the dress, or don’t wear it. It’s up to you.” She kisses my cheek. “Everything will be wonderful.” She leaves me alone with a dress the exact color of Damon’s eyes.
I slip into it and find that it fits perfectly. Something tells me Rose didn’t buy this dress either. The fit is too perfect, and the style is more Damon than his mother.
People trickle in, and by six thirty, the party is in full swing. It’s not a dinner, but drinks and appetizers. I graze the tables and wait like everyone else for the guest of honor to arrive. I’m more antsy because Damon is still MIA. My eyes are constantly on the door, watching for him.
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