44. Roman
Roman
I barely have time to drop my bag before there’s a knock at the door.
Damon glances up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his face like he’s already exhausted. “That better not be Killian. I swear to God, if that fucker is here to steal my snacks again—”
I roll my eyes and head for the door. “Relax, my best friend is safe. It’s probably—”
I pull it open and stop mid-sentence. “Mom?” Damon’s voice comes from behind me, surprised as hell.
I step aside as his mother walks in, carrying a bag in one hand and an affectionate smile on her face. “Surprise,” Lucia Ward says, eyes flicking between the two of us, then she kisses my cheek. “Hello, sweetheart.”
Damon sits up straighter. “You’re early.”
She arches a brow at him. “And you sound shocked that I actually showed up when I said I would.”
Damon makes a face, but it doesn’t hold any real bite. “I mean, yeah, a little. You’re a few hours early, Mom. We literally just got back from campus.”
She clicks her tongue, stepping further inside. “I raised you better than to sass your own mother, Damon Gabriel Ward.”
I bite back a grin as Damon groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You did not just full-name me in front of my boyfriend.”
His mom smirks. “I absolutely did. Now, are you coming to help?”
Damon and I exchange a glance. “You’re cooking, Ma?” I ask.
Lucia lifts her bags. “I stopped by the store. Figured I’d make something real for you boys instead of whatever garbage you usually eat.”
Damon snorts. “We can cook, you know.”
She hums, unconvinced, as she moves toward the kitchen. “Sure you can, sweetheart. Now, come help me.”
Damon groans but gets up, and I follow after him, amused as hell. The kitchen is instantly in chaos, but the good kind—the kind filled with laughter and clattering dishes and teasing insults thrown back and forth.
Lucia moves around like she owns the place, giving orders without hesitation. “Roman, grab the onions from that bag. Damon, wash your hands before you peel and cut the potatoes, I know you haven’t yet.”
Damon grumbles but does as he’s told. “You love bossing me around, huh?”
“Of course I do, baby,” she says easily, chopping herbs like a professional.
I chuckle, pulling out the onions. “You sure you want Damon handling knives? He’s kind of a menace.”
“Shut the fuck up, Roman,” he chirps.
His mom swats his arm with the spoon. “Language.”
I laugh because, holy shit, seeing Damon getting scolded by his mom is the funniest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“Yeah, Damon Gabriel Ward,” I say, nudging him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
Another swat, this time aimed at me. “Both of you.”
Damon glares at me as he dries his hands. “You do realize I could stab you, right?”
His mom doesn’t even look up. “Damon.”
He huffs. “Fine, fine , no stabbing my boyfriend.”
I smirk, even though my heart soars when he calls me his boyfriend again. “Thanks, Ma. Appreciate that.”
She smiles at the endearment and my heart leaps as I try not to let that hit me too hard. She has known me long enough and she was there before everything fell apart. Before Caleb. Before us.
Damon nudges me, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Chop, Hotshot. Don’t just stand there looking pretty.”
I roll my eyes but get to work and half an hour later, the kitchen smells fucking amazing. Damon is stirring something on the stove, scowling as usual. His mom is working on seasoning some chicken, and I’m standing next to her, dicing vegetables.
“So, Roman,” Lucia says, glancing at me. “How has he been treating you?”
Damon stiffens slightly at the stove. “Mom.”
She ignores him. “He’s not being too broody, is he?”
I laugh. “Oh, he’s broody as hell, but I like it.”
Damon shakes his head. “You both suck.”
Lucia grins. “I knew you had a type, baby.”
My boy groans dramatically. “Jesus Christ, I regret everything.”
I smirk, bumping my hip against his. “You love me, Ward.”
“Unfortunately,” he mutters, but his lips twitch like he’s holding back a smile while my heart wants out of my chest because I don’t think he’s fully realized what he just admitted to.
By the time we finish cooking, the kitchen is a mess, but the food is worth it. We pile our plates high, grabbing drinks before settling into the dining area. The mood is light and easy—something I didn’t realize I needed until now.
Lucia watches us for a second before sighing, a small smile tugging at her lips. “This is nice.”
Damon swallows a bite of chicken. “You say that like we don’t usually eat.”
She levels him with a look. “I say that because it’s nice to see you happy, baby.”
Damon blinks, caught off guard, and for a second, I swear I see his ears turn red. His mom just smirks and takes a sip of her drink.
I grin, nudging him under the table. “You do look happy.”
Damon scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”
The night is lighter than I thought it would be. There’s laughter, there’s good food, and for once, it doesn’t feel like the weight of the world is sitting on our shoulders. By the time we finish eating, I feel full—not just from the food, but from the company, from the warmth of being here.
Lucia stands up, stretching. “Alright, I should probably get going.”
Damon frowns. “You sure? You can stay longer.”
She smiles, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I’ll see you at the game on Friday.”
He nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
She turns to me, her expression soft. “And you, Roman… take care of my son, okay?”
I meet her gaze, my throat tight. “Always.”
She leans down, pressing a kiss to Damon’s forehead before hugging me. “I love you both,” she whispers.
Damon doesn’t say anything, but he holds onto her for a second longer before letting go. When she finally leaves, there’s a lingering silence in the apartment. He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “That drained my social battery for the next week.”
I nod, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah.”
He glances at me, then smirks. “You nearly cried when she hugged you, didn’t you?”
I scoff. “Fuck off, Ward.”
He laughs and something eases in my chest.
Yeah.
Tonight was good.