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Damon’s gaze settles behind me by the door, where the duffle bag sits. “You really have feelings for her, don’t you?” he asks.
Without my conscious consent, I answer, “Yes.” My gaze drops and the pad of my thumb runs down the side of my pointer. “I have feelings for her.”
Damon grins across the table and tells me, “Don’t look so damn terrified.”
“I question if she knows what she really wants. If I even know what I really want. Beyond what we’re currently doing.”
“What if what you’re currently doing is enough?” he asks me.
My smirk in response lacks all humor. “We both know this is temporary.” I grind my teeth together rather than adding, I don’t want to fail her. I’m so fucking conflicted with her. Even my Dom side is holding back. She's fragile, everyone is watching and I don't know if once all of this is over that she's still going to want this. She's still mourning her husband... all of it, keeps me on edge when I think about the idea of us. But then I'm with her, and all I can do is fall.
“Who knows this is temporary? You and her?”
“You and I.”
Tapping his knuckles on the table, Damon shakes his head. “I don’t know that.”
“If she didn’t need me, I wouldn’t be here, is what I’m saying.”
“And when she doesn’t need you—”
“Then I’ll be gone.” I finish the statement for him.
“And what if you become her safe place? You ever wonder that?”
“I still don’t know that what I want would be enough for her.”
“I think you’re lying to yourself.”
Rather than engage, I change the subject. “Is there anything you’d suggest I lead her toward today?” Damon cocks his head to the side and looks at me. I add, “I thought I’d spoil her tonight and we can lay out terms.”
“Just one thing, be careful.”
“I’m careful with her. Maybe too careful.”
“Not just with her. Be careful, Zander.”
Ella
The feeling from this morning hasn’t left.
It’s the comedown from the high. I fought for what I wanted, I won … but what is it that I’m left with?
I’m still under a conservatorship. I’m still mandated to be in the confines of my home until I prove my mental stability to someone I don’t even know and only when Damon, and The Firm, recommends an examination be done. I have no control over either.
And then there’s Zander, a man I intend to give what little control I have left. A man who stirs up a number of feelings that I can barely categorize … especially since Damon made that comment. It won’t stop echoing in my head. Maybe I’m displacing the love I had for James onto Zander.
The leather journal with rose gold binding has two sheets filled with nothing but questions.
All I know for certain is that I don’t have any answers and that I’m a far distance away from where I want to be. With all of the memories flooding me today, I long to go back more than anything else.
Back to a time before all of this was set into motion.
My phone buzzes with a text from Kelly. You’re supposed to hold it.
My gaze shifts to the nightstand where the smoky quartz has sat since Kelly sent it in the mail.
She adds, I swear it works.
I don’t have a single comment to make about the crystal and Kelly’s hippie-dippie solution to everything. If I wasn’t on medication, I imagine she’d have gifted me pot as well.
I’ll hold it during my therapy sessions. My thumb hovers over the button, but before I can second-guess it, I send the message.
Perfect! She replies instantly and then asks another question about Zander. What’s his shoe size? Her question forces a sly smile from me.
Kam must have reached out to Trish and Kelly and given them this number. All three of them have been texting me today. They’ve been asking about Zander and anything else … other than the obvious. None of them have asked about what happened or how I’m doing in that respect.
The girls want to know all about him most of all. The secret love interest. If only they knew the whole truth.
I’ll tell you tomorrow, I write back and Kelly replies with, I can’t wait.
Girls’ luncheons are going to be my new favorite, Trish says next.
Kelly piles on with, Seriously, this has been missing from my life. Love you girls.
Kisses.
Setting the phone down on the dresser, I wonder how much I should tell them. He’s still a secret … at least to most people. They think he’s just a bodyguard from the private security firm I hired and I struggle with how much I should tell them.
At that thought, there’s a knock at my bedroom door. He’s the only one who knocks … as if there’s a semblance of privacy in this home. There are cameras everywhere. I call out while peering up at the camera in the corner of the room. It’s tucked away, small and insignificant, yet it’s one more indication that they’re always watching.
