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I should give it back to her.
40
A SECRET
SUMMER
“When’s your boy coming over?” my nana asked me for the umpteenth time as I helped stir the secret sauce my mom was making for dinner.
“He’s not a boy, nana,” I said, knowing how much of a man Damon was. “He said he’ll be here. Why are you asking me so much about him?”
“Because she wants to interrogate him,” Mom said, coming over to help me and side-eyed Nana, who was sitting at the dining table, looking out of the window so she could see who’s coming. “She interviewed your dad when he picked me up on our second date. When I came back home, she told me to marry him.”
“Aww,” I cooed, giving a side hug to Mom. “I hope I find love like you two.”
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you mean find? I think Damon is a pretty good husband material.”
I chuckled and shook my head. They didn’t know we were in a fake relationship. It’d be easier to lie and tell them that things didn’t work out when the six months were over—now only four months were left.
“He’s here!” Nana said, standing up, but I sat her down.
“I’ll go talk to him first, okay?” I said as Dad opened the front door and let Damon in.
I swallowed and ran a hand down my dress. Our shoot was done, and I could relax with my friends and family for a few days before we had to go back to LA.
“Hello,” Damon said, giving a bottle of wine to Mom and looking at me. “Hey.”
His eyes seemed dull and swollen. Something had happened. Even his tie was askew.
“Hey,” I said and held his arm to drag him upstairs into my room.
“Keep the door open!” Dad shouted from below, and I groaned, closing the door shut loudly so they could hear it.
“Sorry about that,” I said, leaning back on the door. “They like to tease me a lot.”
He didn’t reply because he was too busy taking in my childhood room. The small queen-size bed with white lace draped around it, a bunch of pictures of my friends and family and an overflowing bookshelf.
Damon looked huge in my room. And I wanted to pinch myself because I couldn’t believe that he was actually there. My teenage crush in my teenage bedroom. It felt unreal.
“What happened?” I asked him, his eyes going back to me.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low. “I… I found this in the car.”
I took the scrunchie and thanked him. He was acting strange.
“C-can we…” He paused when I looked at him. “I want to hug you.”
“Oh.” My eyebrows raised, and I opened my arms. “You don’t have to ask me for that.”
Damon hugged me, his strong arms wrapping around me as I hid my face in his chest that smelled like lilies, cigarettes and his cologne. I knew something had happened, but I was glad he was in my arms and embracing me so tightly that it was hard to breathe.
“I went to my mother’s grave,” he said against my ear. I was about to pull away, but he held me close. So I stayed still and let him speak. “She had written a letter to me, and I read it today. It… it was so superficial.”
I hugged him tighter, his voice breaking. I rubbed his back when he continued, “I yelled at her. Told her I was done and came here.”
My eyes burned, and I kissed his neck. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice muffled.
“Summer, thank you.”
