CHAPTER 26—DAMIAN
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Kellan: Thanks for all your help, man. Mean it. I know you don't do holidays, but know you've helped me so much. You're my Dear Santa. How is vampire princess doing?
I FEEL LIKE A CAVEMAN who wants to empower his woman. Who wants to lift her up and help her realize all her dreams. Here. Anywhere. She's staying and she looked so happy about her plans when we discussed them in more details lying in bed after her writing session.
Together.
The excitement in her voice about the classes she's thinking of taking, about her resume she wants to brush up, about her plan B and C if that part-time job she's applying to doesn't pan out. She's still worried about her writing, but she's been following my mom's advice and trying to get more help—including from her therapist.
When I asked her this morning again if she was really sure about not entering the Not-So-Crabby-News—even with an older column since they've been asking for her, she smiled and reminded me she's been feeling more relaxed ever since she took that decision.
I reminded her orgasms can relax her, too. And I made sure to show her.
And I trust her decision. I trust her.
I also can't stop thinking about how she tastes, how she completely lets go when she comes, how she claims me in ways that have my cock hardening and my heart softening.
After a shower where I had her against the wall with water cascading over us, I'm now walking through Swans Cove with Barkey while Maddie goes to an appointment with Ed. The crisp winter air nips at my face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Maddie's skin just hours ago.
My hand absently pats the pocket where I've tucked the letter to my younger self. Mom's expecting me at the Bed and Breakfast, and for once, I'm not dreading a completely honest and raw heart-to-heart.
As I approach the B&B, I see Mom waiting on the porch, a steaming mug in her hands. Her smile, warm and unconditional, still amazes me sometimes.
"Hey, sweetheart," she says, pulling me into a hug. "How are you holding up after yesterday?"
I shrug, but there's less tension in my shoulders than there used to be. "Better than expected, actually."
We settle in the cozy sitting room, the scent of cinnamon and old books enveloping us. Barkey curls up at my feet, ever the loyal companion.
"I, uh, wrote something," I begin, fumbling to pull out the folded paper. "It was Maddie's idea. Writing to our past selves."
Mom's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "That sounds... intense. Are you comfortable sharing it?"
I nod, unfolding the letter with slightly trembling hands. "Yeah, I think I am."
Taking a deep breath, I start reading:
"Dear Santa.... Wait... I'm just going to write to myself..." I look up and see my mom smiling as she's holding her hand to her chest and petting Barkey—the mug now on the small table next to us.
I continue, "Dear eight-year-old me,
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what's about to happen, for the pain and confusion you're going to feel. It's not your fault. You're a good kid – stubborn as hell, sure, but good.
You've got some rough years ahead, some things you'll need to work through. But here's the thing – you're going to be okay. More than okay, actually.
You're going to find a mom who loves you unconditionally. Who sees past your walls and loves you anyway. And you're going to love her right back, even if it takes you a while to show it.
Oh, and Pan and Lightning? That dog and cat you think you've lost forever? Mom's going to find them. Pan's going to be there, wagging his tail, ready to love you through everything. And Lightning, too.
You're stronger than you know, kid. You're going to make it through this. And one day, you're going to find a love that makes all the pain worth it.
Hang in there,
Your future self"
As I finish reading, I look up to see tears in Mom's eyes. She reaches out, squeezing my hand. "Oh, Damian," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
"I never properly thanked you," I say, my own voice rough. "For everything. For loving me when I was at my most unlovable. For finding Pan and Lightning."
She shakes her head, a watery smile on her face. "You never had to thank me, sweetheart. Loving you has been the greatest joy of my life."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us.
"So," Mom says finally, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maddie suggested this exercise, huh? Things must be getting serious."
I feel a flush creeping up my neck. "Yeah, they are."
Mom's smile widens. "I'm happy for you, Damian. You deserve this." She pauses, that glint in her eye growing brighter. "You know, I think I might have won the bet."
I groan, but can't help the smile tugging at my lips. "Really, Mom? You too?"
She laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "What can I say? This town loves a good romance. Especially when it involves my grumpy son and a certain charming journalist who I think is thinking about a change of career?"
Everyone always knows everything in Swans Cove—even my mother who doesn't even officially live here.
As I leave the B&B, letter safely back in my pocket, I feel lighter somehow. Like I've shed a weight I didn't even know I was carrying.
My phone buzzes – a text from Maddie. "Meeting went well. Can't wait to see you later. x"
I smile, typing back a quick response. Yeah, things are definitely getting serious. And for once, that doesn't scare me at all. Though I might have to have a word with this town about their betting habits.