Shouldn't Have Dealt - Book II

Chapter 6 - Trying

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” I mutter, crying. My tears go straight to his skin. “I have betrayed your trust.”

I wish I could tell him everything I feel today—my regrets, the pain, the longing for him, the future I have in mind with him—just everything. However, it will be useless since he cannot hear me.

I just know one thing: I love him… with all my life.

He is my first love. My firsts in everything. The one whom I trusted my heart with. But I was a fool for not safeguarding something as precious as him. Now, I have lost him.

But is it really over for the two of us? Are second chances a myth now for us?

Has Damien truly gotten over me? If not, why didn’t he even try to reach out to me? Why did he avoid me all this time? Why didn’t he even yell at me and tell me I was such a jerk? Why didn’t he drag me away from Hunter and his family that day in the Musgrove’s? Why did he let Hunter continue the game? Why was he so silent the entire time?

I waited for him to do something.

I waited for him to go wild—to act like what the real Damien would if he finds out his girlfriend was lying to him. I waited for him to make a scene.

And even for the next months, I keep waiting for him.

But he did nothing.

I tried many times to convince myself that maybe what was ours in the beginning was fraud; that what we had was similar with what smitten teenagers have; that it was just temporary and nothing serious, but I failed many times. Because I am always reminded of the great things we shared together. Because I saw how he changed for the better. Because I knew something deeper about him that others don’t. Because Damien opened up his life to me, and he welcomed me with open arms.

It seemed all real to me.

He loved me, he said. I just don’t know if he feels the same for me now.

Standing up, I watch the rise and fall of his chest. There’s nothing more I could ask for at the moment. His safety and timely recuperation are in my prayers. Reconciliation would follow when he is all better.

I bend forward and kiss him on the lips.

Some corner of my brain is telling me that when I open my eyes after our lips part, I will see his grey eyes watching me with wonder and surprise. That Damien will feel the warmth in my kiss, and that he will be awakened. Just like that night in his library…

Keep on dreaming, Angel. I tell myself.

He’s not going to be awake for another hour. He’s been drugged with narcotics. Who am I deluding? It’s pretty clear that I always like to deceive myself during times of great misery. This time is not an exception.

“Goodbye for a while, Damien,” I say in soft words on top of his mouth.

“Miss Grant?”

I pause from searching for my phone in my bag when I feel the woman’s voice hit my spine. Instantly, I know who she is.

“Angel Grant, is that you?”

Slowly turning on my heels, I catch a glimpse of my face on the glass wall. It is ashen pale and dappled red eyes—partially recovering from the crying.

Mrs. Etheridge appears like she’s in dire need of sleep. She hasn’t got make-up on her face that I hardly recognize her to be the sophisticated woman I know her to be.