AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I let him stew on my words before I say something I’ll regret. I won’t do this again. If he refuses to talk to me the same way Harvey did, I can’t do it anymore.
I already shut down my computer for the night, so I grab my purse. I’m out the glass door and inside the elevators. He doesn’t come after me, and for some reason, the thought annoys me. At least he knows Joey’s driving me home.
I don’t expect him at the door at eleven o’clock at night, either, when he rings the doorbell repeatedly.
He stumbles in drunk with his duffel bag in hand. I’m not surprised, yet I can’t muster the energy to deal with him in his current state.
“Baby . . .baby. . . I need to talk to you.”
I shake my head. “Damon, you only open up to me when you drink. That’s not what I want.”
His fingers hold on to his hair like a vise. “Please, just ... I miss you, Red.” He thumbs a strand of hair away from my face. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw you ... so beautiful even in a hospital gown. I swear I couldn’t believe my luck when Katherine introduced you as my new assistant.”
“Damon.”
“Listen to me. I can’t do this sober. God knows I tried.”
We head to the living room, and he sits on the rug, staring into space.
God, he must be really drunk.
Somehow seeing him like this breaks something inside me. He’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how to heal.
“After the accident I was so mad at Palmer, at her parents, at myself, especially ...” His eyes bleed in agony at the memory. “I thought we were happy. I mean, sure, I worked a lot, butIthought she loved me,” he whispers, referring to the fact that she admitted to cheating on him in her diary.
I want to shush him and tell him that perhaps she did love him in a similar way that I loved Harv, and I still hurt him deeply.
“The night she killed herself, I lost it.”
I hold on to his hand, trying to comfort him.
“I blamed her for the accident, even though I never should’ve let her drive in the first place.” His Adam’s apple moves. “That’s why Sutton thinks it’s my fault—because it is. I helped Palmer heal mentally first, then as soon as she was better, I sprung the notion that a man was now paralyzed because of her. And after visiting you in the hospital, even then, just the thought that you could’ve been more injured too—I lashed out at Palmer in my own way.”
My heart is beating so rapidly it might explode. I taste metal and notice I’m biting on my lip.
“I was working in her home office that night, and I fell asleep on the couch.” He touches his neck. “The next thing I know, something prickles my neck. She drugged me. I couldn’tmove.As time went on, words slurred from my mouth while I tried asking her what the fuck she was doing! She was eerily calm as she placed an envelope on the desk and cut herself ...”
He buries his face in his hands, and I sit on the rug next to him, stroking his back.
“I ... felt paralyzed.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Maybe it was karma for the hit-and-run. Anyway, she screamed, and I begged her to stop, but our earlier fight was playing through her eyes. I swear to God, inthat moment, she hated me. I could see it. And she had every right to. I blamed her for the accident whenshe never should’ve driven in the first place, then I hate-fucked her instead of making love to her, and I fucking stood there like a drugged-up idiot, watching her hurt herself.”
Tears glisten in his eyes as he spaces out completely while recounting the story.
I can feel my own emotions pushing against the dam, breaking it, setting them free.
“She told me she popped pills, but she added a couple more. Then she drank some whiskey and ended her life in front of me.”
He rubs his eyes while he continues, “I’ll never forget the look on her face as the knife crossed her neck. The second she did, her sister arrived home, by some goddamn miracle, and witnessed the whole thing. It’s why I managed to escape murder charges, but it hasn’t stopped Sutton from hating me. I tried to scream at Palmer—fought so fucking hard to get to her, to break through the drug, but I was losing consciousness. She wanted to die. I couldn’t protect her, and as soon as she dropped the letter on my desk she was gone. Palmer was gone and she wasn’t coming back.” He places his head in my lap, wrapping his arms around me.
I’m shocked.
Frankly, I never expected him to tell me she committed suicide in front of him. I don’t even know what to say, so instead I trace my fingers over his eyebrows, hoping it calms him.
“Did you read her letter?” I’m referring to the letter to Damon she spoke of in her second diary.
“I did,” he says. “But her words couldn’t undo the damage.”
I take it all in—his pain, his feelings, his words.
