Chapter thirty-two
Damon, Emma, and Annie's Home, London
Emma
“You are not her mother,” Damon barks from the doorway. “Correct her, now.”
“She’s trying to say Emma,” I tell him as he stands, glaring at me, his fingers balled into fists at his sides. Mrs. D holds out her hands and I pass Annie to her.
“No, she said Ma-ma, and you didn’t stop her. Is this what you’ve been doing? Trying to take her for yourself?” He storms forward as Mrs. D holds his daughter. I sit back on my heels and gape at him. “You are not her mother,” he repeats. His wild eyes bouncing between me and his daughter.
“I never said I was,” I murmur, tears filling my eyes. My heart shatters when I see how furious he is with the possibility Annie could consider me a mother figure. “She wasn’t calling me that.”
“I will take Annie to play in her room,” Mrs. D interrupts. “You two put the kettle on and sit down to have a conversation. Nothing is ever sorted in the heat of the moment.” She moves to walk past Damon, and he steps into her way.
“Damon,” she says, firmly. “Move out of my way. Annie does not need to be around you when you have quite clearly got a lot on your mind. Let me pass and have a discussion with Emma.”
“No.”
“Damon, get your emotions in check and have an adult conversation. Now, get out of my way.” He relents by stepping to the side, then Mrs. D disappears with Annie into the hallway. His furious gaze focuses back on me.
“What’s happened?” I ask, almost under my breath.
“You,” he snarls. “You’ve fucking happened.”
“Excuse me,” I shoot back, pushing myself onto my feet. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you’ve turned my life upside down, and I’m not sure I like it.” His eyes darken then narrow. Damon has always been domineering but this morning he looks deadly. “Nothing is the same as it was.”
“And that’s all my fault?” He presses the lips that have shown me so much love together. His face is a mirage of pain, upset, and confusion. “Are you saying that every change in your life is down to me?” I ask, firmly.
“No, but you’re fucking connected to everything. We’re twisted together by our dark pasts, and it’s toxic.” He crosses his arms over his chest as I walk toward him. I reach for his cheek, but he shies from my touch. “How can we move forward when so much of us is poisoned with the past?”
I look up at him, aching to take him in my arms and prove what we have. He knows what we have; he’s lived it with me for weeks. The joy of waking up next to each other. The hope we both were cultivating for the future as a new family of three.
“Yesterday, you wanted us to move forward,” I whisper, my voice low.
“Last night demonstrated we couldn’t. We have different morals. You can’t be with a man like me, it won’t work, especially not now I’ve stepped fully into the shadows.”
"Did you kill him?” I ask, my assumption being he went through with murdering Brenton, even though I asked him not to. My question sits in the air between us.
He cocks his head to one side then flashes a tight smile. “He’s dead,” he replies. “Brenton took his last breath on that roof, and I’m fucking delighted. I watched the life seep from him. I rejoice in the fact I was there to see justice served.”
“I didn’t ask if he was dead. I asked if you killed him.”
“What if I did? How would that make you feel, knowing I went against your wishes?” he says, his tone sarcastic. “How would you feel knowing you shared a bed with a man like that?”
“Disappointed.” Surprise flickers across his harsh features.
“The man I love would listen to me as his partner. He wouldn’t deliberately go against my requests unless it was completely necessary.”
My tone is calm, stable, but inside my world is falling apart.
I feel him pulling away, and I have no idea how to stop it.
If I lose him, I lose Annie. Losing them both means giving up the family I so desperately want.
“Did you kill him?” I repeat, aware he hasn’t answered the question.
“All you need to know is that Brenton is dead, and I was there.”
“Do you feel better knowing he’s dead?”
“Of course I fucking do. Connie deserved this outcome. He ordered her death, and I aided his.”
My brain files the fact he never admitted to killing him away.
His eyes which were focused on mine, flicker around the room as if losing confidence.
His large chest rises and falls. “This thing between us, what we have, ends today. We can both move on. This insanity of thinking we can be together stops now.”
“Why? Give me a good reason when we love each other, why we shouldn’t try. Everyone deserves to be happy, even you.”
He bends slightly from the waist, lowering his face so it is merely inches from mine. His breaths are deep; as air leaves his lips it touches my skin.
“Because I will never see you the same way I saw my wife. I don’t need, and never wanted, a replacement.” His statement is like a punch direct to my guts. Sheer pain sears through me as the words sink in. My greatest fear has been thrown at me. He would rather have her.
“A replacement?” I repeat back to him. “What happened to us being our own version of life from now on? What happened to us? You said the words, Damon, not me. You promised me a future with you, with Annie.”
He takes a deliberate step back, closes his eyes, then reopens them and fixes me with a blank stare. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and strong muscles flex below his shirt. The short distance between us opens wider with each passing second until it feels unpassable.
“I was wrong,” he says bluntly. “There is no us. In the two years I’ve known you, we have never lived a normal life. Neither of us have a standard past. There was no way this could work and maintain the parameters I require.”
“Parameters? What fucking parameters?” The pain morphs into anger as I listen to the nonsense spewing from his mouth. “Please enlighten me as to the implemented boundaries in our relationship I missed, because I’m sure there were none when you stuck your dick in my mouth.”
“Don’t be so fucking crude,” he mutters, grimacing. “This isn’t about sex, it’s about life. It’s about the family I want my daughter to remember.”
“It’s about her, isn’t it?” I state, even though I already know. “She’s dead, Damon. Gone and not coming back. Why are you trying to destroy us when we could be happy? You don’t need to feel guilty about making a life without Connie in it.”
“She will always be part of mine and Annie’s life,” he responds angrily. “She will always be her mother and…” He trails off before completing the sentence. We stare at each other, and I know what the ending was. He doesn’t need to say it.
“And you will always consider Connie your wife,” I finish for him. His face twists, but he doesn’t argue. My heart breaks as reality smashes me square in the eyes. “You told me you loved me.” I drop my focus from him, needing a moment to compose myself.
“I do,” he says, softer, more like the man I’ve fallen in love with.
“But that doesn’t mean we should be together. If last night proved anything it was that we’re both broken, both walking through life on very different paths than we hoped for. Two busted-up individuals won’t make a whole, stable family for Annie. We can’t fix each other. One of us needs to be whole.
”
“Annie is happy,” I challenge. “All kids need is love, and oodles of it. We both have that to give. Both to her and each other. I never wanted to replace her mother.”
He steps forward once more, his hand lifting to my cheek. The tenderness I have come to love shows momentarily.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. Deep down, you see her as yours. And I understand why, Emma, because biologically she is. You birthed her, and for that I will always be grateful. This should never have happened, though; you should have moved on as planned after her birth and not returned here.
I wish I had acted differently.”
His fingers drop away. “It would be too easy to allow this change to happen and permit Connie to be forgotten. This was her dream; I need to honor it.”
“And honoring her means destroying me.”
He grinds his teeth, then takes a deep breath.
“It’s over, Emma,” he says simply. “As of now, there is no more future between us. Later we can discuss how things will go from here, but you’re welcome to stay here for a few days until we sort alternative accommodations for you. I’ll be caring for my daughter.”
He emphasizes the word my, making it clear where the boundary is. “Your help will no longer be required.”
“What about your work?”
“I resigned this morning. As I said, don’t concern yourself with my future—worry about your own.”
***
I sit on my bed, my small case packed at my feet. Damon hasn’t come near me since our conversation in the kitchen this morning. After he walked away, I called the only person I thought could help me, who I was comfortable speaking to about the detonation of my life.
Harrison had been stunned when he answered my call. I explained what had happened, and that I needed somewhere to go for now. When he asked where, I told him as far from London as possible. I needed time and fresh air to clear my head and to find some sort of direction in my future.
“He’s being an idiot,” he said firmly. “He’s scared.”
“I know that.”
“I’m going to make sure he fucking knows it,” he muttered. “Emma, please don’t give up on him. He loves you.”
“I know he does, but I can’t stay somewhere I’m not wanted. Or with someone who doesn’t see me as his new beginning.”
The truth in my words stung. Damon was struggling to see “now” as it was so different from “then.”
Part of me wondered if his inability to move on had to do with guilt.
Part of me thought, perhaps, he couldn’t accept he was still here while Connie was gone.
Then there was the part I wanted to ignore, that it was possible he just didn’t love me and we were the result of insane events.
Harrison answered my questions about the rooftop.
He confirmed that Damon, in fact, didn’t kill Brenton.
With regards to Moreno, the man desperate to seek revenge, he had survived my knitting needle attack.
I smiled sadly to myself, recollecting that my defense technique was one that Damon had taught me on our evening in the gym when sex had become intertwined with our workout routine.
Moreno is currently in the hospital due to the injuries I inflicted on him.
Both he and Brenton are being investigated for money laundering and other crimes.
Harrison assured me it’s unlikely Moreno will breathe air outside prison walls in his lifetime.
In a matter of hours, men had been coming forward to provide evidence against him in exchange for immunity.
With Brenton dead, and Moreno incarcerated, the top of the tree has fallen so the men below will jostle for position.
The world of gangs is dog-eat-dog, and every man is truly in it for himself.
Harrison is confident that, for now, I’m safe.
Moreno’s issue with me is personal; there is no financial advantage to anyone else pursuing me.
When I glance at my watch, the time shows 3:45 p.m. My taxi will be arriving in fifteen minutes to take me to the train station before I start my journey north.
Harrison has arranged a rental of a small cottage nestled somewhere in the Scottish Highlands via a friend.
He assures me it has an excellent internet connection, and I will be able to work and study easily from there.
“Fresh air, rain, and space. It’s exactly what you need. The owner is ex-military. My friend assures me they’re good people who will help you if you need it. Other than that, it’s a warm bed and time to heal. I’ve rented it for six months for you.”
“Six months?” I stammered.
“Yes, no arguments. Six months.”
“I’ll pay you back,” I told him. “Every penny.”
“Of course you will. After this time to regain yourself, you’ll come back to London and get back to work. I told you, I’m investing in my business by investing in you. I truly believe you will be an amazing lawyer, and I look forward to working with you for years to come. Enjoy your time to breathe.
”
“I will, and thank you again,” I say before we disconnect the call.
My mobile phone pings in my palm. It’s a message from the taxi service advising they’re fifteen minutes from my pick-up time.
I stand, collect the case at my feet, and make my way out into the hallway.
The house is silent. I panic that perhaps Damon has left for the day and I won’t be able to see Annie before I leave.
My concerns ease when I hear music coming from the kitchen. I follow the notes to find Damon with her sitting on his knee at the counter. After leaving my case at the front door, I walk up behind him, but he doesn’t turn around. Annie peeps at me over his shoulder.
“Ma-ma,” she says, and the wall of confidence I built to have this conversation cracks. Her father keeps his eyes firmly to the front. She smiles, a wide toothy grin, and the walls begin to crumble. I reach for her hand, and she wraps little grubby fingers around my larger one.
“I love you, Annie,” I whisper. The tears I so desperately wanted to keep at bay coat my eyes. I catch a sob in my throat before it escapes. “I’ll miss you so, so much. I’m proud to have been part of your life.”
My focus moves to her father sitting deathly still. I will him to turn around and speak to me, but he doesn’t move. His large frame merely sits holding his daughter, who continues to look at me. She’s completely oblivious to what is happening.
“Thank you,” I say to the back of his head.
“For loving me, and for giving me a taste of what it can be like when someone wants you. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Damon, I really do. I’m sorry I wasn’t her.”
I pause, leaving time for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
It’s obvious everything he wants to say has been said.
“I know you love me. And if you ever want to investigate the possibility of happiness, no doubt you will be able to find me, but I won’t wait forever. I deserve my happy ending too.”
Before leaving, I place the shoebox in my hands with every week’s wages he paid me onto the counter. He glances at the object then his focus returns to the front. “I never wanted your money,” I tell him, then leave.