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* * *
After her brief escape from reality to mourn the loss of her adopted father, Britney returned to life at the diner. It was a sad shift, not that she found workin’ there particularly sad before. But for a brief moment, it seemed like Damien and her were on their way towards somethin’ even better.
Something that she could really see a future in, which she’d never thought of the diner as.
“Hey, you wanna clean-up for me here? The lunch crowd has finally cleared out and I need a smoke break,” said her co-worker, Anne.
“Oh yeah, sure,” Britney said, taken out of her stupor by the request.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You’ve just been a lil’ off since ya’ll got back from the funeral. Must’ve been rough,” Anne said sympathetically.
“Yeah, it ain’t nothin’. You go take your break,” Britney insisted, pulling the dirty dishes off the countertop and bringing them to the back, makin’ way to wipe down the counter.
Truth w
as though, she had more than the sad loss of her adopted father to mourn. Even more than Damien takin’ off after their stay together, though that’d shattered her heart into a million pieces. She couldn’t even tell no one, not really, and so she suffered in silence.
Especially since returnin’ back to her old life, she never did get her period. It was really startin’ to worry her.
“It was just one night, probably just the worryin’,” she reassured herself in her own head, trying not to dwell on the consequences of her one reckless evening, and the man she’d lost her virginity to.
* * *
When her shift finally ended, Britney tied up her apron and grabbed her coat.
“See ya’ll later,” she said with a smile and a wave, doin’ her best not to betray any of her worrying or concerns. If she was pregnant, she couldn’t afford to raise the kid on her own. The will said she’d get the farm, but… what could she do with it all on her lonesome?
She was just one person, and if she was havin’ to raise a child on top of it all, she’d be worse than useless.
As she pulled her purse on over her shoulder and walked out of the diner and down the sidewalk, she barely paid the slightest heed to where she was goin’. Her mind was off in a land of maybes and worries.
She just need some fresh air, and a way to forget about Damien just like he’d forgotten about her. The thought made her sick to her stomach, and she didn’t want to believe that was true.
“Penny for your thoughts,” came a familiar, gravelly voice as she approached her apartment buildin’, a low four story building that only housed a few people.
“Huh?” Britney said, raising her head and lookin’ to the source of the question.
And there he was, like straight out of her head, lookin’ as good as ever: Damien.
He was wearin’ his leather jacket, leanin’ back on his motorcycle. And holdin’ a bouquet of flowers.
“What are you doing here?” Britney asked, eyes wide in shock and surprise, her voice rather weak as she didn’t know what to make of his sudden reappearance after a week apart.
“Well,” he began, lickin’ at his lips, thinkin’ it over, “I really liked playin’ house with you there for a while.” He made it sound like a game, but when he pushed off the bike, he came to her, reached out his free hand towards one of hers as he bent one knee and lowered himself down. “Thought maybe you’d like to do it some more… y’know. Forever maybe.”
He was grinnin’ at her as she still stared, dumbfounded.
“But you never said word one before you took off,” she said, shocked. Flabbergasted, the old Mr. Drake would say.
“Well, when a man puts his mind to somethin’, he gets kinda singularly focussed, Brit. And well… I had to go shop for somethin’ real special,” he said, as he pushed a small, velvety box into her palm.
“So how’s about it, babe?” he asked again, the bouquet of fragrant flowers in one hand as he smiled up at her. “Marry me and I’ll make sure ya never regret it,” he declared, his voice deep and confident.
She didn’t need to flip open the ring box, examine what was inside, to know her answer. Her face lit up and before she could think a single thought she blurted out:
