Chapter 32
Grace sat at her kitchen table telling herself she should be studying, but she couldn't stop wishing Damon would call. She was trying to let him set the pace of their developing relationship, but she was eager to get back to where they were before he deployed.
That may not be possible.
Damon was fighting too many demons that may never let him rest. He was making progress, though. She could see it in his face and the relaxed set of his shoulders. He still reacted to loud noises and jumped at sudden movement, but not as strongly as he used to.
She was just glad he hadn’t pushed her away again. They'd talked frequently on the phone over the past four weeks and hung out several times, including Sunday dinners with his family and playing games with Charity and Clive.
If Grace had her way, they would spend every evening together, but Damon meant it when he said he needed to take things slowly.
Her phone rang on the table beside her, making her jump. She grinned when she spotted his name. "Hello?"
"Hey, beautiful."
Grace's heart beat a little harder in her chest. She loved the reverence in his voice when he called her that.
"Hey, handsome."
"Are you busy?"
"Well, I'm supposed to be studying..."
"Judging by your tone, I'm guessing it's not going well." Grace heard the amusement in his voice.
"Not exactly."
"My mom just left on another date with Clive. I asked her if you were coming over to keep me company and guess what she said?"
Damon and his brothers were still adjusting to their mom having a boyfriend, but Clive was a great guy, and Charity was incredibly happy. So were Faith and Dwight.
"What?"
"She told me I was a big boy, and I could find my own dates."
"She's right." Grace grinned again.
"So, I was wondering if I could come over. I need to get out of this house. We could take Lily for a walk since the weather is nice today, then we can...watch a movie or something."
"Sounds like a great plan."
"Great. I should probably put on something other than sweatpants, so I'll be over in twenty minutes."
Most men could change clothes in five minutes, but it took Damon longer to do simple tasks like that now. He rarely complained though.
"See you soon."
They ended the call, and Grace darted to the bathroom to run a brush through her hair and apply a little mascara. Then, hoping they might share a few kisses, she brushed her teeth and put on lip gloss.
After tidying up the living room, she pulled a pan of frozen enchiladas from the freezer—she was still learning to cook for one person—and threw them in the oven. They'd take a while to thaw and bake, but hopefully Damon would stick around all evening.
The doorbell rang as she finished giving the counters a quick wipe down. Unable to hold back a smile, she opened the door to find Damon standing there with a bouquet of red roses.
"Well, this looks familiar." Grace cocked her head to the side. "But you're missing your Aunt Faith."
"No, I am not." He insisted. "Even if she wasn't with Dwight, I wouldn't let her crash my date." He stepped through the door. "And these are for you this time."
"Thank you." She accepted the beautiful flowers and leaned in for a kiss that was much too brief.
Damon followed her to the kitchen, and without waiting to be asked, he pulled a vase down from above the fridge. Then he scooped Lily up in his arms, leaned against the counter, and watched her trim the flowers.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "It's a little unnerving to have you just stand there watching me."
He put Lily down and walked over to stand behind her. His arms snaked around her waist. "Would you like me to stand here instead?"
She giggled, although she wasn't sure how, because she was more than a little breathless. "Much better."
Each time they were together, Damon was a little more affectionate, but this was a huge jump for him.
He released her after several long moments but stayed close by her side.
When she finished arranging the flowers in the vase, he pulled her into his arms and gave her the kind of kiss she’d been longing for.
Lily yipped and put her front paws on Damon's leg, her little tail wagging behind her.
Damon chuckled as he pulled away and picked up Lily again. "You want attention too, do you?" He rubbed her vigorously as she showered his face with kisses.
"Hmm...looks like I have some competition." Instead of being jealous though, Grace fell a little deeper in love with Damon.
He laughed as he put Lily down. "Don't worry, you're a much better kisser." He grinned and gave her a wink before grabbing a paper towel and wiping his face. "Let's take this little fur ball for a walk and wear her out, so we can enjoy the rest of our evening."
She didn’t know what had changed for him since she saw him last, but she wasn’t going to complain. He could have setbacks at any time, but she planned to enjoy the old Damon for as long as she could.
She grabbed Lily's leash—which sent the dog into a frenzy—and headed for the front door. She opened it before she realized Damon wasn't behind her. Turning, she found him studying the pictures of her mom on the wall.
When she walked over to stand by his side, he gave her a sad smile, his eyes glassy. "I miss your mom."
"Me too." Tears flooded her own eyes.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his side. Together they studied the pictures on the wall.
"It only took me three months, but I finally moved into the master bedroom." Grace sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Mom wanted me to take the master bedroom when we first moved into the house, but I insisted she have it. I guess she finally got her way."
"Change is hard, but saying goodbye? That's a whole lot harder."
Tension accompanied the sadness in his voice, and Grace wondered if he was thinking about his fallen comrades that he never got to say goodbye to.
She nodded and followed him out of the house.
They walked mostly in comfortable silence, only talking occasionally. Grace loved that Damon didn't feel the need to fill the silence. He was simply content to be with her.
He got what will hopefully be his permanent prosthetic last week, and his gait grew smoother every day. He took her hand when they crossed a broken and uneven patch of concrete then didn't release it. Not until they arrived back at the house.
They had barely stepped inside and released Lily, who darted to her water bowl, when Damon said, "Remember my last night here before I deployed?" He motioned with his arm. "How we moved the couch and I taught you swing dance?"
"I remember." Her face warmed as she recalled the slow dancing and kissing.
"I'm not very coordinated yet, but I want to dance with you again Grace."
"I'd like that."
Together they moved the couch, selected music, then laughed as Grace stumbled over her own feet as much as Damon did.
After attempting to swing dance for twenty minutes, a slow song came on.
Instead of changing the song like he did the first few times, Damon pulled her into his arms, tucking her close to his chest.
"I've missed you so much," he whispered into her hair.
"I’ve missed you too."
She rested her head against his shoulder and said a silent prayer, thanking God for bringing Damon back to her. He had some wounds that might never fully heal, but he was here and he was hers. For that, she would be eternally grateful.
While they ate dinner, he told her that he’d started helping coach the basketball team. “And I’ve found an online university where I can work on my degree, like you. At least until my final year.”
A few weeks ago, he’d shared with her his desire to become a high school guidance counselor. Grace loved seeing him excited about the future. When he talked about helping teenagers on and off the court it was as if a light bulb turned on inside him.
"When you get into the throes of homework, we can have study dates. Where we each study our own thing."
"I don't think so." His gaze grew intense as it roamed over her face. "I doubt I'd be able to concentrate if I was alone with you."
A flush crept up her neck. "We wouldn't be completely alone. Lily would be there."
Hearing her name, Lily yipped and danced around Grace's chair.
"That pint-sized fur ball won't be enough of a deterrent to keep me from making out with you instead of studying."
Grace giggled, loving this glimpse of the old Damon.
Then he sobered, and tension settled around the table. “I appreciate your courage in sharing your difficult things with me. I want to do the same with you.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I know it’s no secret, but I keep having nightmares and flashbacks."
She’d seen firsthand the PTSD and flashbacks, but he’d refused to talk about them with her.
"I'm so sorry." She covered his hand with her own. "That must be difficult. Are you reliving the explosion each time?"
"Sometimes. It's often different scenarios, but every time, someone I care about needs help, and I'm powerless to save them." He rotated his wrist and clasped her hand in his. He kept his gaze there as he stroked his thumb across her skin.
"Have you told Emily? What does she say about it?"
"It's PTSD." He shrugged one shoulder. "Caused by guilt."
"But the IED wasn't your fault, you know that. You're not responsible for what happened."
"I keep telling myself that.” He grimaced. “But...I was supposed to be driving that day, Grace."
"Then it would have been you..." She tightened her grip on his hand as her throat constricted. "You would have died that day."
"I know." He stared at his almost empty plate for a moment, but Grace doubted he actually saw it. "I often ask myself why I survived when King and Ford didn't."
"You may never truly know. You just have to believe it wasn't your time to go."
"Maybe." He took a drink of water. "Sometimes you show up in my dreams. Something bad always happens to you, and I can't stop it."
"What do you think that means?" she asked quietly.