Chapter 18 Letting Go #2
His mind something to focus on.
His heart something to hide behind.
So Damon buried himself in it.
The problem was that grief followed him anyway.
The first few days passed in a haze of exhaustion.
Long shifts became longer.
He volunteered for extra hours.
Extra inspections.
Extra maintenance.
Any task that kept him moving.
Any task that prevented him from thinking.
The strategy failed completely.
Because every time he paused, memories rushed back.
Elliot laughing in the passenger seat.
Elliot sketching beneath the oak tree.
Elliot standing in front of his painting at the art show.
Elliot saying, I love him.
The memory hit hardest.
Especially because Damon had answered that love by walking away.
The realization made him sick.
By Monday, even the crew had started noticing.
"Damon."
He looked up from an equipment report.
One of the senior workers frowned.
"You need some sleep."
"I'm fine."
The answer came automatically.
Nobody believed it.
Least of all him.
The worker crossed his arms.
"You almost missed that pressure reading."
Damon glanced back toward the report.
The man was right.
Normally he would've caught it immediately.
The mistake unsettled him.
Because mistakes on an oil field weren't harmless.
They could hurt people.
Sometimes worse.
The realization should've forced him to slow down.
Instead, he worked harder.
As if enough physical exhaustion might somehow silence emotional pain.
It didn't.
By Wednesday, he felt worse.
The days blended together.
Coffee replaced meals.
Sleep became optional.
The hollow feeling inside his chest never disappeared.
At one point, he actually reached for his phone to text Elliot.
The message remained unsent.
Because what exactly was he supposed to say?
Sorry I broke both our hearts?
The truth sounded pathetic.
So he deleted the draft and went back to work.
The self-punishment continued.
Longer hours.
Riskier assignments.
More time spent on active equipment.
He wasn't consciously trying to get hurt.
At least that's what he told himself.
The truth was more complicated.
Part of him simply didn't care enough to be cautious.
The distinction mattered.
A little.
Not enough.
Friday arrived hot and humid.
Storm clouds gathered in the distance.
The weather made everyone uneasy.
Oil fields and bad weather rarely mixed well.
The crew spent most of the morning securing equipment.
Double-checking systems.
Reviewing safety procedures.
Normal precautions.
Necessary precautions.
Damon participated mechanically.
His body present.
His thoughts elsewhere.
A dangerous combination.
Around noon, an urgent call came across the radio.
Equipment failure on one of the elevated platforms.
Nothing catastrophic.
Yet.
The situation required immediate attention.
Damon volunteered before anyone else could.
Naturally.
The platform stood nearly forty feet above ground.
Steel walkways connected various sections.
Machinery thundered beneath them.
The environment demanded concentration.
Absolute concentration.
Damon climbed anyway.
Rain had begun by the time he reached the upper level.
Not heavy rain.
Just enough to make surfaces slick.
Just enough to create additional risk.
The repair itself wasn't complicated.
A damaged component.
A faulty connection.
The sort of problem he'd fixed dozens of times before.
Normally, the task would've taken twenty minutes.
Today felt different.
His hands moved automatically.
His thoughts drifted.
Toward Elliot.
Toward the breakup.
Toward the scholarship.
Toward all the things he'd lost.
The distraction lasted only seconds.
Seconds were enough.
A loud metallic crack echoed through the platform.
Damon's head snapped up instantly.
Instinct took over.
The sound wasn't normal.
Not even close.
Something had failed.
Nearby workers shouted warnings.
Rain intensified.
Equipment groaned beneath sudden pressure.
Then everything happened at once.
A support connection gave way unexpectedly.
The platform shuddered violently.
Damon lost his footing.
For one terrifying moment, the world disappeared beneath him.
His boots slid.
His balance vanished.
Steel rushed past.
The open drop yawned below.
Forty feet.
Maybe more.
Time slowed.
The realization arrived with brutal clarity.
I'm falling.
Panic exploded through every nerve.
Pure instinct saved him.
Nothing else.
His hand slammed against a safety railing.
Fingers closed desperately.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
His body swung outward over empty air.
Below him, machinery roared.
The ground looked impossibly far away.
Someone screamed his name.
Another worker lunged forward.
The entire world narrowed to one desperate grip.
One hand.
One railing.
One mistake away from disaster.
For a second that felt like forever, Damon hung there.
Rain pounded his face.
Adrenaline flooded his system.
Fear unlike anything he'd experienced in years ripped through him.
Not fear of pain.
Not fear of injury.
Fear of ending.
The realization struck immediately.
If he let go, this might be it.
And suddenly every excuse disappeared.
Every lie.
Every rationalization.
Everything he'd been telling himself.
Gone.
Because when faced with the possibility of death, only truth remained.
And the truth was simple.
He didn't want to die.
Not here.
Not like this.
Not with things unfinished.
Not without seeing Elliot again.
The thought hit harder than the fall.
Elliot.
Not work.
Not money.
Not reputation.
Elliot.
The same answer he'd discovered before.
Only stronger now.
Much stronger.
A coworker grabbed his arm.
Then another.
Together they hauled him back onto solid steel.
Damon collapsed against the platform floor.
Breathing hard.
Rain soaking through his clothes.
His entire body shaking.
For several moments, he couldn't speak.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
The crew surrounded him immediately.
Questions.
Concerns.
Orders.
He barely heard any of it.
Because the near fall had shattered something.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The illusion.
The lie he'd been living.
The belief that walking away had been noble.
Necessary.
Right.
None of it survived.
Lying there on the rain-soaked platform, Damon finally confronted the truth.
He wasn't protecting Elliot.
He was protecting himself.
Protecting himself from fear.
From uncertainty.
From the possibility of getting hurt.
The realization landed with crushing force.
Because Elliot had never asked him to sacrifice their future.
Damon had made that decision alone.
Without trust.
Without discussion.
Without giving them a chance.
The guilt hit hard.
Hard enough to steal what little breath remained.
Hours later, after medical checks and endless paperwork, Damon finally sat alone in his truck.
The storm had passed.
Evening sunlight broke through distant clouds.
The world looked strangely beautiful.
Fresh.
Clean.
Alive.
The near accident replayed repeatedly inside his head.
The fall.
The fear.
The certainty.
Most of all, the realization.
Life wasn't offering unlimited chances.
He knew that now.
Maybe he'd always known.
The difference was that today made it impossible to ignore.
His phone sat on the passenger seat.
Silent.
Waiting.
For a long moment, Damon stared at it.
Then he picked it up.
Not because he knew what to say.
Not because he had a plan.
Because almost dying had clarified one thing beyond all doubt.
Walking away from Elliot wasn't saving either of them.
It was destroying them both.
And for the first time since the breakup, Damon understood exactly what he needed to do.
He needed to fight.
For Elliot.
For their future.
For the life he'd been too afraid to believe he deserved.
The realization settled deep inside him as the sun emerged from behind the clouds.
Nothing was fixed.
Nothing was easy.
Yet everything had changed.
Because when death came close enough to touch, it left behind a single undeniable truth.
Damon Blackwell wasn't ready to let Elliot Hayes go.
Not now.
Not ever.
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