Chapter Twenty-Four
Damian
I pace in my room, running my hand down my face. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get her out of my head?
The way she gushed about Axel during our lesson today and how excited she got when he texted her made me feel…I’m not sure how. Like I wanted to gather her in my arms and take her away from him. But why on earth would I do that? He’ll be her boyfriend soon. Who am I to get in the way of that?
Because there’s something that doesn’t sit well with me, something I can’t explain. Maybe because she’s obsessing over that guy? But isn’t that normal when you’re getting to know someone? Of course you’re eager to spend time with them and learn all you can about them. Sophie claims she feels like this is the guy for her. She’s smart and knows what she wants. So if she says he’s for her, then he’s for her.
But yet, there’s this inkling in the back of my mind. Maybe because I don’t know the guy? Why should that matter? I’m not her dad or brother. It’s not my responsibility to watch over her.
Plopping down, I bend forward and let out a breath. Maybe I’m denying it, but I think I’m going crazy because I don’t like the thought of her with…
I shut my eyes. What in the world am I admitting? Sure, she’s fun and kind and we have a great time together, and I appreciate all that she has done for me. And I can’t deny the spark between us every time we touch. But so what?
I mean, I wouldn’t mind if we spent time together outside the classroom. As friends. Yes,friends.
My teeth clench. I seriously have no idea what’s wrong with me. She found her real-life Romeo. Why am I acting like such a jerk?
The only thing that can stop me from my neurotic thoughts is drawing. So I take out my sketchpad and let myself get lost in my artwork.
No more than a few minutes pass and I’m thinking about her again. Darn it.
Maybe the only way to rid myself of these crazy thoughts and feelings is to go to the party and see for myself that the guy is good to her.
Placing my art things on my desk, I grab my keys and head for the door. Mom’s in the middle of coming up the stairs and we nearly collide with each other.
“Damian. Are you going somewhere?”
“Out.”
She waits for me to tell her where. She’s never asked me before.
“Just out.”
She hesitates. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your father.”
My throat tightens. “What about him?”
“You have to understand what happened between us. We weren’t right for each other. That’s why we got divorced and went our separate ways.”
I study her face. “Doesn’t seem like you regret it.”
She doesn’t say anything for a bit, then, “You have to let go of this grudge you have against me. There’s so much you don’t understand.”
“But I do understand. You chose your empire over your husband and son.”
She purses her lips.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“If you’d let me explain—”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “But there’s nothing to explain. You made a choice, I get that. Everyone is free to makea choice, but you lost me and you lost Dad. He asked you to see him when he was on his deathbed, but you didn’t go. You just abandoned him. And now you’re trying to mold me into your perfect son. I don’t want any of it. And if that’s what it takes for you to love me, then I’m done.”
Her nostrils flare. “Damian, I won’t accept this attitude from you.”
Right. She cares more about my attitude than about the reason for my attitude. “I need to be somewhere.”
