Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Staring at the television, I watched as Damien sauntered off the field into the dugout.
He’d been gone for almost a week, darting off around the country for back-to-back series.
When he first mentioned leaving, I was relieved, needing space after spending so much time with him.
Yet, from the moment I left his apartment, I wanted to go back, missing him more than I expected.
I tried to push the thought away, instead focusing on the schoolwork I’d been neglecting all summer.
I immersed myself in the updated curriculum, crafting graphs and spreadsheets to track my students’ progress, anything to help me get more prepared when I walked through the doors next month.
September was always a time of transition, trying to get to know the new students and teach them the routines.
There was also the matter of my co-teacher.
Don’t get me wrong—I enjoyed my career. I'd worked with many incredible teachers over the years, but no matter how much you knew someone, there was always an adjustment period when you shared a classroom. Depending on the mix of personalities, it could be a rough transition, two people battling for shared power instead of coming together to best serve the students’ needs.
And this year would be a harder one than most. As if I conjured him with my thoughts, an email pinged into my inbox, Brad’s name plastered on the top.
As I scanned his message, my blood boiled.
No greeting. No perfunctory questions about my summer.
Instead, he’d jumped into a list of documents he wanted me to create and his expectations for me when I stepped into his classroom.
As I scanned his words, my hands tensed. The man wanted me to be a body in the room, only managing behaviors, nothing else. In all caps, he wrote: I WILL LEAD ALL INSTRUCTION. YOU ARE THERE TO SUPPORT ONLY.
With a groan, I shot off a reply email, reminding him we were co-teachers and I wasn’t his assistant.
If he did not think he could handle the assignment, he was welcome to go to the principal.
Then, I slammed the lid shut, not bothering to wait for a response.
It was only for a year. I could do anything for a year.
Ten months—185 days, if we were being technical.
As I debated exchanging my teaching license for any other career, Ollie crashed through the door, her hands filled with a large package. She plopped it on the table and grinned. “It’s for you.”
My brow furrowed. “It shouldn’t be. I didn’t order anything.”
She nodded to the upper corner. “Check out the return address.”
Damien Ramos.
“What did he send me?” I question aloud. Curiosity tickled the back of my mind, but my hands didn’t move, too nervous about what sat inside. “I—he didn’t say anything.”
“Duh,” Ollie chuckled. “That’s why it’s a surprise. It’s romantic. Oh!” She clapped her hands as she grinned. “What if it’s a bunch of sex toys?”
“Not that I’m telling you anything about what’s going on between us, but…” My eyes darted open as I took in the box’s size. “If that’s true, he’s got way too much faith in my kinky side. There’d have to be a toy in it for every day of the month.”
“Only one way to find out,” Ollie mused as she walked over to a drawer and pulled a pair of scissors. “Better open it up.”
I stared at the scissors in her hand, inhaling a steadying breath before taking them.
Slicing open the tape, I pushed away the packing paper, revealing a bunch of books and other items from the Oakland area.
As I pulled out each one, I chuckled, recognizing most of them from my online book wishlist. Thumbing through the pages, I gasped when I saw the author had signed the front cover.
After I placed the first one down, I grabbed the other three from the package, finding them signed as well.
I shook my head, reaching into the box to pull out a handwritten card.
Remembered how much you loved these ones. Saw them and had to grab the set for your shelves.
- D
Ollie’s eyes widened as she read the note over my shoulder. “Wow. Gotta give it to the guy. He knows the way to your heart.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.”
“No, nice is grabbing someone a trinket or two from the airport. Searching a bookstore for someone’s comfort series and buying signed copies? That’s a love language if I’ve ever heard one.”
I thumbed the card, waiting for the usual unease to prickle my spine.
This was not about love. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.
But as each day passed without Damien, I found myself missing him, and not just for the sex.
He was easy to talk to—to confide in. Besides Ollie, he was the only person I opened up to about my divorce, and never once did he make me feel like less because of it.
Ollie let out a loud laugh as she pulled the card from my hand, flipping it over.
Think this is worth at least two items from your list, angel…
“I’m on Team Damien with this one. You need to finish the whole damn list now.” Ollie arched an eyebrow. “What have you crossed off with him?”
My cheeks flamed, and I tucked the note into my pocket.
I was unsure why, but I wanted to keep it.
My mouth opened, ready to tell Ollie all about the items we’d checked off together, but the words refused to come.
It was one thing to talk about this stuff with Ollie when it was hypothetical, but now that Damien was involved, I had a harder time telling her about our time together.
I wanted to hold it close, keep it tight to my chest, keep us unsullied by other’s opinions and perspectives.
“Not telling,” I mused, digging deeper into the package.
There were a couple of snacks: chips I told him I could never find here, a few chocolate bars.
But when I reached the bottom, my fingers snagged on some fabric.
I pulled it out, holding the dark emerald jersey up.
I knew what adorned the back before I even turned it around.
But when I did, I couldn’t help but smile at Ramos etched into the fabric.
Ollie squealed as I held it up for her to see. “Girl, that man is gone for you! Wearing his jersey and sitting in the family area? He’s practically peeing around you in a circle.”
“Ew, Ol. Did not need that visual.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Damien’s making his intentions very well known.” A sudden seriousness washed over her face. “Are you ready for that?”
My breath stuttered in my chest, unsure of what to do .
Maybe Damien realized what he wanted, but my head and heart were speaking completely different languages.
Past hurt and fear made me want to shove everything back into the box, pretending it’d gotten lost in the mail.
However, Damien’s face flashed in my mind, and I pictured his smile as he put together this package just for me.
When was the last time someone took the time to show me they cared?
“I’m not sure,” I muttered. “This was supposed to be safe—easy and no feelings involved. But Damien…”
“He’s under your skin?”
“More than I ever thought.” I sat on the stool next to the island.
Shaking my head, I dropped the jersey on my lap.
“It’s like I’m standing in this crossroad, and I don’t know which way to turn.
Either I keep going down this path with Damien and he crushes me, or I stop it now…
” My voice trailed off, unable to even finish the sentence.
Because honestly—the idea of losing Damien now seemed like a worse fate than getting hurt down the line.
Ollie plopped down next to me, taking my free hand in hers. “Those aren’t the only options.”
“They’re not?”
“No, dummy. Those are just the scariest ones. You might do this for a bit, and it fizzles out, no hard feelings, no lingering doubts. Or…”
I glared at her as her voice trailed off. “Or?”
“Or you both take the leap and find out you have something here. A real chance at happiness, Bri. Sure, that thought might be terrifying, but you’ll never know if you don’t decide to jump.”
Could I do that? Thumbing my free hand over the smooth fabric of the jersey, I pictured Damien’s face—the soft smiles he saved only for me, the way he held me close in the midnight hours, the stolen moments that existed only between the two of us.
For a moment, Todd’s face flashed in my mind, as if trying to sully the moment.
But for the first time in a long time, his presence didn’t weigh me down, didn’t make me feel as if I was trying to take a breath underwater.
Instead, I was more annoyed, tired of focusing on my past when I might have so much more in the future.
My eyes flashed open at the thought. Ollie just shook her head with a knowing chuckle. “Go get your man, Bri. Stop overthinking and take what you want.”
The next morning, I still hadn’t decided what to do about Damien’s gift.
Despite Ollie’s words, I couldn’t bring myself to let go, to let down that last wall in my heart.
After I’d gone to bed, I sent off a text thanking him for the gift, but when he tried to call, it went to voicemail, all because I was too much of a coward to talk to him with my head so jumbled.
I might say something stupid like how much I missed him, or that I’d watched all his games while he was on the road.