Chapter Twelve
Damien
I can't believe how quickly things progressed between us or how much I like her.
Our time spent together leaves me feeling like I'm in a dream. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met.
Right now, we're curled up side by side on the couch in my office, and she's threading her fingers with mine, comparing the size of our hands. I absolutely did not expect our dinner date to progress the way that it had, but I'm absolutely not feeling one iota of regret.
Her eyes meet mine and something new - a new feeling - rises up within me. Something warm, safe, and calm. Something indescribable, like the sunlight on my face first thing in the morning as I wake up from the happiest dream I've ever had.
But there's a different kind of secret I want to share with her. “I used to be part of a club.”
My words sound too loud in the silence, and she lifts her head and looks at me. “Congratulations?” The note of humor in her voice tells me she doesn't understand, which makes perfect sense given I didn't give her enough context to understand the gravity of my comment.
“I'm not a good guy when it comes to women.” I'm not sure what I'm trying to do, completely derail any possibility of a relationship or drive her away in disgust, or simply be honest with her in case there is some hope for this spark between us.
“Well, you've been absolutely amazing, and that's all that matters.” As she says the words, I can hear a strange note in her voice, as if she's unsure she believes them.
“I was part of a club - a sex club.” I think about Club Red, wondering what I ever saw in the place. Sure, it was great for no strings attached liaisons, but I never felt good about myself while there or directly after.
I feel her whole body stiffen up.
“Don't worry, everything was very strictly regulated. I'm absolutely clean.” I don't want to alarm her, but I want her to know exactly what she's getting into. “But that lifestyle didn't make me happy, and I left it behind.” After a while, I realized I felt more lonely after an encounter at Club Red than I felt simply being alone. So I started opting for being alone instead.
“Why are you telling me this?” Her question is perfectly valid, but I'm not sure I can give her an honest answer.
I want to tell her how incredibly important she feels to me and how she makes me feel things I've never experienced before. I want her to know that even though I've been with women before, none of them are like her or make me feel the way she makes me feel. It’s not just about sex. There's something deeper between us. And while I don't want to label whatever this is between us, I do want to acknowledge that it exists.
“I'm not sure other than a deep-seated need to be honest.” Because if I say the rest of what I'm thinking, I'm going to sound like I’ve lost my mind, and I’m in too deep, too quickly. “Well, that and I've never had a date quite like ours,” I say sheepishly.
I'm still sensing an unexpected distance between us, but I could just be making something of nothing. Still, I worry she feels we moved too fast. I want to validate her, but I don't want to push if she says things are fine. It’s a delicate position, and one I don’t want to misstep in and screw up.
Our dinner was magic, and this time with her is even more so.
Driving her away would be stupid. Opening up to her gives her the option to decide what she wants to do next.
“Well, thank you for telling me.” I can't quite shake the finality of her tone, as if this is the last time she ever plans to see me again. No doubt I'm overthinking things, but her whole demeanor seems... off somehow. Frankly, it's driving me crazy, but I'm not about to call her out.
As it is, I've been able to show her my world and show her a part of me that no one else sees. I see her eyes, unfocused, and know that she's staring out the windows to the stunning view of the city. I can see little raindrops dotting the glass before sliding down, and each drop reflects the light and dark of the world outside. There's beauty in this moment, in the quiet between us, and this shared space. Having her here just feels right.
I relax back into the couch as she lays across me, her warmth settling into my bones. After our romantic encounter, she hurriedly dressed and I followed suit, even though I’d left my suit jacket on my desk. After she got dressed, I'd pulled her close, trying to soothe the panic within her. And the move had worked. She'd relaxed and allowed me to pull her back to the couch. And now we're just laying together, watching the rain fall, the lights twinkle, and listening to one another’s breathing.
“I like you a lot, Zoe.”
She lifts her head and treats me to a sleepy smile. “I like you too, Damien.”
Once again we fall into a silence and the near dark, romantic atmosphere. With every breath, I can smell her sweet perfume and taste her kiss. She laces her fingers with mine again, and we lay there in the quiet, staring out the windows.
“I really enjoyed our time together.” The way she ends the statement tells me there's more she wants to add, but she doesn't, and I'm left holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next. I can only assume she's trying to tell me that our time has come to an end.
Internally, I hope that's not the case. I could lay like this with her forever, even though I know that's not realistic.
“I have too,” I say, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. She kisses me back, her lips moving gently against mine. We break the kiss and go back to cuddling on the couch, enjoying the moment. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me, and she rests her head on my chest as if listening to my heartbeat. I absentmindedly run my fingertips through her hair and press my lips to the top of her head.
I want to tell her that she makes me happy, but I worry that it's too soon.
I don't want to be too much, too soon, and accidentally pushed her away. But she really is special to me and has been since I met her that morning on the cruise. And we just stay like that for a while, wrapped up in one another and simply feeling each other's presence.
I can't shake the feeling that something is off with her.
I feel the tension in her body.
I sense her discomfort.
And I wonder if it's something I did or something I said that upset her.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, hating to sound like that date . The annoying one who asks their counterpart if they're okay over and over, or asks if their date hates them. I don't want to upset her if there really is nothing bothering her, but I do absolutely feel like there's something she's holding back, something that might be better discussed.
“Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just processing things. A lot has happened very quickly.” As she says the words, she gives away exactly what's on her mind. We’ve done too much, too quickly.
I hope she doesn't think that I'm judging her, and I want to try to put her mind at ease if that's the case, but I also don't want to put it in her head that maybe I might be judging her if that's not what she's concerned about.
I do wonder what she means when she says she's processing, though.
Does she regret what we did?
Did I move too fast?
Does she wish we hadn't been intimate?
I take an internal step back and remind myself she just got out of an abusive relationship. There are bound to be difficulties, but we can overcome them together.
“I’m here if you need or want to talk,” I say.
“Thank you,” she says.
I can't quell this surge of worry and concern for her. But there really isn't anything else I can do besides ask her if she wants to talk. But even as I sit there and worry about whatever's on her mind, she lifts her head and places a quick kiss on my lips. In that moment, everything is okay in the world.
And as we hold each other, I forget about my problems, my fears, and my doubts.
I don't think about the guilt that I've been holding on to for far too long but feel stressed to solve problems that aren't mine to fix. The entire world melts away, and the only thing that matters is her and me and this moment.
And in this moment, I realize how much she means to me.
I'm a different person when I'm with her, a person that I like more.
I feel safe to let my guard down and just relax.
She inspires me to be softer, kinder, gentler; things that don't fit into my life when she's not around. My life up to this point has required me to be ruthless and cunning to survive. But with her, I'm not surviving; I'm living. Maybe it doesn't make sense, and maybe this is just the clarity that comes after intimacy.
After all, I can't afford to be those things in my line of work. I can't afford to be vulnerable or weak or emotional. The people in my life who want me to fall would chew me up and spit me out. But why can't I be those things with her and hard and ruthless against the rest of the world? She offers me a unique respite that makes me happy - and I don’t want to let that go.
I can be a boss, a leader, a winner, a savage to everyone else. But with her, I can just be me. Or the best version of myself at least.
The question is, can I integrate her into my life without losing myself, losing her, or destroying everything I've worked so hard for? I don't know how to balance these two worlds without compromising one or the other. I don't know how to make this work without risking hurting her.
But there's also no way I can give her up or give up on us.
Short of her telling me she doesn't want me in her life anymore, I’m not going anywhere.
Because at this point, I can't give up whatever this is between us.
I'm hooked.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks me. I give her a slight smile as I continue combing my fingers through her hair.
“You. This moment.” I'm quiet again, and we listen to the rain striking the windows as she lays in my arms. I can't believe how quickly she's become an important part of my life. I can't stop thinking about her beautiful eyes, the sound of her laughter, the way her body fits so perfectly to mine, as if she were made for me.
I also know I shouldn't get attached. Not this quickly.
I want nothing more than to spend the rest of the night like this, wrapped up in her embrace as the sun comes up, lost in our own little world. But as much as I want to stay in this moment forever, I know that's just not going to happen.
“Hey,” I say softly, my fingers still stroking her hair. “There's something I need to tell you.”
“Sure. Anything.” She sounds open-minded and optimistic, both of which are going to be really important very soon.