16. Damien
Damien
Over a year ago
I stared up at the ceiling, watching the headlights from the street below chase away the shadows, as various degrees of light and dark danced high above. Turning to my side, I took in the sleeping woman. Her long golden hair fanned behind her head. Her lips were parted. Soft sounds of breathing created a hum.
Our earlier conversation ran on repeat in my head.
Marriage.
Unable to sleep, I exhaled a long, exasperated breath before slowly rolling to the edge of the bed and slipping out from under the blankets. As I searched for my clothes, Amber rolled, her arms searching where I had just been.
“Damien?” She squinted her eyes, searching through the momentary darkness.
“Go to sleep. I’m getting some water.”
“Come back to bed as soon as you can.”
I nodded, knowing it was a lie. Wearing only my boxers, I once again took her in. A quick glance told me that in only seconds, her eyes were closed, and she was making her way back to dreamland.
Sleep wasn’t something I could do.
Running my hand over my hair, I stood for a moment, watching the woman who could be my forever. I didn’t feel it.
Am I supposed to?
I was far from a romantic.
Nevertheless, the longer I lay in her bed, the heavier my chest felt. I had to move before I suffocated beneath the growing weight.
Amber Wilmott.
I’d known her most of my life. Her mother had been part of the Sinclair Pharmaceuticals executive board since I was a teenager. Her father was in the US Senate before his passing. Our families were close—dinners, cookouts, even vacations. Jordon Wilmott aided Sinclair with a few government approvals back in the day. Despite my knowing Amber for so long, there was a sense of familiarity that was missing and had been since my last relationship fell apart.
Fucking Ella.
I couldn’t think about the void she left.
Gathering my clothes, I made my way down the hall to Amber’s kitchen. The clock over the stove said it was only a little before two in the morning. Time to sleep.
My mind was too chaotic to sleep.
This was supposed to be a happy day, euphoric even.
The day I proposed.
I didn’t propose. The subject of marriage came up again as it often had since Amber and I began dating. It was time. I was in my late thirties, and not getting any younger. My career was moving the right direction. And then there was the bombshell Gloria dropped on us a few days ago. By marrying, I could fast-track my probationary period as CEO and get the permanent title.
The news had come as such a shock, I called my father.
He said he wasn’t aware of the addendum, yet I had a copy of the bylaws and could read it in black and white. After sending him a copy, Dad did what he always does. He added his two cents.
“Don’t marry someone for the wrong reason. If you love her, then consider the permanent title the cherry on the top. If you don’t like the sundae below, that cherry is fucking insignificant.”
His advice was eating at me, nibble by nibble.
Amber could be fun to be around. She enjoyed the spotlight. Fancy dinners and nightclubs were her thing. Tall, blond, and curvy, she looked good on my arm. More than once, her mother had commented on how we would make a power couple.
When it came to sex, she was a wildcat. Nails and teeth and willing for anything.
My mind went to another woman.
She’d left me but only physically.
Ella came to my mind more often than I would like.
While pushing my cock into Amber’s asshole as she begged for more, I’d have flashes of the one who never let me do that.
It made no fucking sense.
I craved control, especially in the bedroom, and still my thoughts went to the woman who while fantastic in bed, gave me limits—guardrails, so to speak.
Fully dressed, I sorted through the papers we’d left on Amber’s counter.
My stomach dropped as I held up the license.
I remembered earlier in the afternoon.
“Let’s do it,” Amber said. “My mom will be ecstatic.”
“Don’t you want a wedding?” I asked.
“This is just the license. In Indiana it’s good for sixty days. We’ll plan a ceremony.” Her eyes opened wider. “On the canal. It will be gorgeous.”
My mind went to my probation. This would end it almost two years early. One less thing to deal with. The excitement on Amber’s face was contagious. “Can you plan a wedding in two months?”
“I can do it. After all, Damien Sinclair should have the best and biggest wedding Indianapolis has ever seen. Our pictures will be all over social media and local business journals. The marriage of the century.”
If yesterday was day one, Amber and I had fifty-nine days to make the license legal. All we needed was the officiant’s signature.
I couldn’t ignore the sense of doom hanging over me. I was a man who took what he wanted, but I knew that what I wanted or who I wanted wasn’t Amber Wilmott.
Pulling out my phone, I hit my sister’s number.
“Are you dead? If you’re not, call back in the morning.”
“Dani.”
There must have been something in my voice.
“Are you okay?” She sounded more awake.
“I’m kind of…I thought if I could talk…never mind. Get some sleep.”
“Damien,” she said, “where are you? Do you need me to come and get you?”
“I was wondering if I could come to you.”
“Yes. Of course. Have you been drinking?”
“No, but if you have bourbon, get it out.”
After disconnecting the call, I shone the light from my phone on the license. Everything within me wanted to rip it—to tear it in half. However, if I did, I also feared I’d fatally damage my position at Sinclair.
If I didn’t tear the paper, maybe Amber and I could work out a truce.
Instead of ripping the license, I crumpled it, and finding another piece of paper, I wrote a note. Yes, it was probably the coward’s way, but at least I wasn’t ending our relationship via a text or a tweet.
Amber,
The license was too much. Too fast.
It’s not you. It’s me.
Okay, that was fucking bullshit.
It is me. I need time, more than sixty days.
Have a good life.
D~
I left the note with the crumpled license and my key to her apartment on her kitchen counter.
Once outside, I lifted my face to the sky with the sensation that I’d shed a tremendous load. My steps were lighter. The night noises were louder. My inner buzz was stiller.
Amber wasn’t my future.
There was no denying that.
Repercussions would undoubtedly come, but no matter what they were, they were better than marrying the wrong person. Fuck, I had the right person. My thoughts went to the diamond ring in my dresser at home. The idea of putting it on Amber’s finger made me physically ill. She deserved to marry someone who loved her.
That wasn’t me.
The mostly empty streets allowed me to speed from downtown to the north side. By the time I reached Dani’s condo, I felt hundreds of pounds lighter. It was closer to one hundred and forty pounds lighter, but lighter, nonetheless.
Dani answered the door wearing pajama shorts and a soft top. “I have bourbon. Talk to me.”
“Good news or bad news first.”
She closed the door and led me to her kitchen table where she had a bottle of Four Roses and two shot glasses. “Bad.” She poured two shots.
As I lifted the glass to my lips, I laughed. It was a full-blown, out-of-control moment, and I was sharing it with one of the only people in my life who I fully trusted.
“You’re losing it, Damien,” Dani said with a grin.
Pulling out chairs, we both sat, me wearing yesterday’s suit minus the jacket and tie, and my sister in her pajamas with her hair piled on her head.
“I don’t know which one is the good and which one is the bad.”
“How about chronological?” she asked.
“Today, Amber and I went to the county clerk’s office.”
“What the fuck?” Dani’s eyes opened wide. “You’re going to marry her?”
“Do you think I should?”
Dani stood and paced back and forth. “I don’t…” Her gaze met mine. “I mean, I’m happy for you if you love her. Or is this about that addendum?”
I reached for my sister’s hand. “Sit down and have another shot. There’s more to the story.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding and sitting with one leg bent beneath her. “Pour.”
I poured each of us a second shot.
Dani lifted hers to her lips. “Give me the other news.”
“I crumpled the license, wrote her a Dear John letter, and left her sleeping in her bed.” I shrugged. “Not John, but you get the idea.”
“Let me get this straight. You and Amber applied for a marriage license. Did you actually marry?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No. The license is…was good for sixty days. No officiant. We didn’t marry.”
“And you left her—like broke up?”
I nodded. “That about sums it up.” I tilted my head. “Give it to me straight. Am I an asshole?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not news.” A smile curled her lips. “If you wanted to marry her, I’d support you because even being an asshole, I love you. Am I happy you changed your mind? In a word, yes.” She lifted another shot in the air.
Filling my glass, I lifted mine to hers. “Cheers.” The liquid must have completely numbed my throat because as I swallowed, the initial burn was gone. “At this rate, Mom and Dad are never getting grandchildren.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m five years younger than you.”
Placing the glass on the table, I spoke slowly. “Mom and Dad. I kept thinking about them.”
“They’ll support whatever you decide.”
“It’s kind of crazy that having happily married parents is infuriating.”
Dani laughed. “I get that. I date a guy and think, will I ever be like Mom and Dad?”
“Amber isn’t the woman I want to spend my forever with.”
“Then it’s good you realized now.” Dani grinned. “Have you met that woman? I’m not sure I’ve met the man.”
“I think about someone, a lot. Maybe there is someone else.”
Dani raised another shot. “To our someone else.”