“Hey, Brit,” Damian nudges me, gently waking me up.
“Mmm…” I groan out and stretch, slowly opening my eyes. “What’s up?” He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, dressed in a suit, looking handsome and crisp. A stark comparison to my disheveled mess. He pushes the hair out of my face, placing the backs of his fingers flat against my forehead, gauging my temp.
“How are you feeling, darling?”
“So much better. Infinitely better.” I swallow and relief floods me when my throat doesn’t hurt in the slightest.
“I have to head out. I have those meetings in San Jose, but I was wondering if it’d be alright for me to come back here at the end of the week?” I tilt my head slightly. I’m not really confused, just surprised.
“Of course,” I smile at him. “This house is just as much yours as it is mine.” I laugh quietly. I mean, it’s basically his money that paid for it.
“It’s your house, Brit. Our — and I do meanour— hard work has paid for it.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. Damian’s changing. The old Damian wouldn’t have flat-out claimed that it was his money paying for everything, but it would have been implied. And yet, now here we are, sitting on my bed, completely comfortable with one another. I feel like we’re finally on the same page. We’ve reached a state of equilibrium, and it feels good. I’m actually going to miss having him around.
“The girls and I would love for you to come back after your meetings conclude.” I shoot him a smile, one that he returns.
“If you start feeling worse and need me to come back, just call, okay?” He lets out an ironic laugh, “Honestly, I feel like I’m just a placeholder in these meetings now. I’m just riding this train till we get to my stop, you know?” I do. I know exactly what he means. Life is just pulling you along, but ultimately you have to decide when you’re going to get off that ride and start living. I reach out for his hand and he takes it, giving me that one-dimple smile.
“If you ever decide you don’t want to do the CEO life anymore, I hope you’ll come visit me. My houseisour house, Damian. We’ll always be a part of each other’s lives whether we want to or not…but I do want to. I mean, I want you to be part of my life still.” I pause, “And I’d love if Summer could join you sometime, too.”
Damian’s eyes get watery. “You always were too good for me, Brit.”
“But, if you ever buy a beach house, or an island villa, I hope that ‘our house’ situation goes both ways.” He laughs.
“It will. Itdoes. I want you in my life, too, Britain.” He squeezes my hand, releasing it, so he can stand up and straighten his tie. He heads towards the door, stopping before he exits. “I’ll see you Thursday or Friday, okay? Want me to bring back some clam chowder and sourdough if I make it into San Francisco?”
“Oh my gawd, yes!” He laughs again and turns to leave, but this time I stop him. “Hey!” He turns towards me, “I love you.”
“I love you, too. And, B?” His gaze falls to my sweatshirt, “You’ve been wearing that sweatshirt for two days. You stink.” I scoff at him.
“Way to ruin the moment!” He laughs at me before finally leaving. I look down at the sweatshirt and a cold sweat breaks out on my skin.This is my sweatshirt, the one Liam gave me.I would never put this on of my own volition. The last time I wore this sweatshirt was the day he proposed to me. I glance over at the other side of the bed where the pillows have been rearranged for sleeping. The decorative euros are stacked neatly on the floor, instead of on the bed like I normally leave them.
Fully aware that I’m losing my mind when I do this, I scooch towards the other side of the bed and smell the pillow. And…it smells likehim.What the fuck?
“Whatchya doing, weirdo?” Jess asks as she walks into my room. I sit up immediately, like I wasn’t just imagining the smell of my ex-fiancé’s cologne on my sheets.
“Uh, nothing. I think my sheets smell like a sick bed. Gotta change them today.” I shrug it off.
“So does this mean you’re feeling better? Because I’ve been dying to talk to you.” I haven’t talked to her since she brought me my antibiotics yesterday afternoon. God, that feels like nine years ago, not yesterday.
“Yeah, I feel better. And,yes, we need to talk,” I say to her, remembering Liam, and the letter, and how she didn’t tell me about it. Jess just plops down into the loveseat at the foot of my bed.
“Okay, first things first, why were you sleeping on the bench outside?”
“It was an accident. I wasn’t ready to come inside, so I sat down, andpoof!Asleep. But hey, at the Greek Fest, I ran intoLiam again and he said he packed the letter he wrote me in a suitcase.” Her face falls. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ll get it, hold on,” Jess says as she stands up and heads towards my closet. She’s back a moment later with a tri-folded letter in hand. “So, when we talked about Matthias and you dating…I was harsh on you. And I felt like I was swaying your opinion or decision, and really how I felt about it was just a reflection of what I’m going through and how crappy I’ve felt lately. I didn’t want to give you the letter combined with my ‘don’t date him’ monologue and have you run back to Liam.
I put it in your closet, so when you got home from your date you’d be able to make an informed decision. I was planning to tell you as soon as you got home. I just thought you’d be able to spend the night with Matthias, then read the letter, andthenmake a decision.” She passes me the letter, and I just stare at it. It’s a couple pages thick and my name is written in Liam’s chicken scratch, scrawled across the front.
“I already made a decision,” I say it quietly, my voice still slightly raspy from sickness. Jess’ eyes go wide in surprise. “I chose Matthias.” Her eyes go even wider, but she doesn’t say a word. I look down at the letter in my hands, then back at Jess. “I chose wrong, though.” I laugh, lifelessly. “There was never a right choice to make. I’m not going to be with anyone, so none of this matters. Next time, just give me the letter right away, okay?”Next time. I laugh in my head. Yeah, the next time you find a long-lost letter from my ex-fiancé, make sure to hand it right over, like it’s an everyday occurrence and this isDays of Our Lives.
“I’m sorry, Brit.” Her tone is solemn.
I just shrug. “It is what it is. I’m just going to focus on trying to be healthier, and the girls, and the baby, and let life be quiet for a while.” She nods, the guilt on her face apparent.
“I really am sorry.”
