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I wonder if I’ll ever tire of hearing him mutter my name. “Hey, why didn’t you wake me? Are you at work?”
“You needed the sleep.Thatgirl’s replacing you today.”
I sigh. “Damon, I’ll come in. I’m feeling—”
“Half the day is already done. Just relax.”
“I feel like a shit employee.”
“With the way you let me fuck you, Gemma, I’d say you’re definitely not a shit employee.” His voice is sugarcoated in sarcasm.
I’ll do overtime next week to make up for it. The Damon I knew prior to dating him would’ve fired me for taking such a last-minute day off.
When we hang up, I peruse our bedroom. I swallow when I think of last night’s events. The thought of leaving this place, of leaving him, breaks my heart.
I text Henrik, asking for news of Harvey and asking if I should stop by and see him again. It pains me when he tells me not to. That Harv’s doing well, and he needs to keep doing well on his own—without me.
I know this too. Iknowthis.
I shattered Harvey when I left to the point that he wanted to leave this place. He almost robbed his family of his soul.
And now? Now I must carry the weight of Damon’s truths forever.
Whether I forgive him or not.
The weather today is beautiful. I barely need a coat, but I know the wind will pick up once I reach a certain speed.
I’m at a bike track. Because it’s a beautiful day in April. Because I missed this. Because I’m no longer beholden to my promise to Harv not to ride again.
Joey drives me there. Now, despite my efforts to get him to leave and come back later, he refuses.
“Mr. Dreygon is calling me, miss. Something tells me he’ll want to speak with you.” Of course, he told him where I wanted to go. And mighty patient Damon must be when he cuts his call short to Joey and tries to reach me instead.
“I’ll handle him. I won’t be too long, Joey.”
“I don’t have any doubts that you will. Be careful,” Joey warns me, and I nod, picking up Damon’s call.
“Not. Fucking. Funny. When I said relax and enjoy the day, I meant go for a walk or have a manicure—not put your life at risk.”
I can’t help the eye roll that ensues. I sign a waiver and pay while half listening to Damon’s rant.
“Sorry I have different hobbies.”
“Gemma, you know I love everything about you, but Ineedyou alive.”
“And this is how Ifeelalive, Damon. We’ll talk later.”
“Dammit—” I hear him say, but I hang up before he ruins my fun. This is my way of processing everything that’s been going on.
I need this.
“Ready?” a working guy in his early twenties asks me, handing me a full suit, gloves, and a helmet.
“Yeah,” I tell him, unable to contain the smile crossing my face. I hide my phone inside the pocket of the coat, seeing two messages from Damon.
He can wait.
I end up riding a dirt bike. I and four more guys follow an instructor. This place is awesome, with the bumps high and goosebumps inducing, and the best part is when we ride the trail inside the forest.
