It’s not a question. It’s a quiet statement. I’m used to his using my last name by now. He almost always does. But it still catches my attention every time. No one else ever calls me that. Only him. I turn around to face him.
“You’re not going to tell me?” He’s pulled off his tie completely and shrugged off his jacket. He sits on the side of the bed. He looks almost as tired as I feel.
“Tell you what?”
“You know what. Something’s wrong. You’ve been about to cry since you gave that toast.”
“I’m not about to cry.” I snap out the retort. I don’t know why since it’s a lie and both of us know it.
“Clarke.”
“Stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve disappointed you or something.” My voice cracks, and I hate it. Hate it.
“You have kind of disappointed me, but this isn’t about me. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I make a weird sound in my throat as I hug my arms to my chest. It really feels like I’m about to fall apart. Like I have to hold myself together.
Damian leans forward. “You’re holding on so tight, baby. I can see the grip and how much it’s hurting you. But we’re alone now. You can let go.”
I start to shake again. I tighten my arms. They’re lower now, around my belly. I jerk my head to the side as I swallow over a lump in my throat that’s so hard it aches. When I’ve caught my breath, I look back at him.
“Why are you disappointed in me?” It’s a real question—not just a distraction.
He gets up and walks over to me. Takes my upper arms in his big, warm hands. “Why do you think? You’ll live with me. Eat with me. Argue with me. Talk with me. Have sex with me. Almost share your life with me. But you still won’t let me in.”
I’m shaking so much my teeth are almost chattering. “I want to,” I choke out.
“Then do it, baby. Let me in. Please.”
It’s the please that does it. It breaks me. I crumple into loud, messy sobs.
“Oh my God,” Damian murmurs roughly, pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. “It’s all right, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
I’d never imagined this about myself before, but it’s exactly what I want to hear. I need to hear it. Feel it. His strong arms. His solid body. His familiar, soothing voice. I cry into his shirt in a way I don’t remember doing since I was a child.
He makes no demands for explanations. He lets me cry for several minutes, until I have no more tears. Even then, I’m still sniffing and trembling. My knees feel like they might buckle at any moment.
“I need to pee,” I say.
Yes, that’s what I say. They’re the only words that come out.
He gives that dry huff of amusement and loosens his arms. “In that case, don’t let me stand in your way.”
Despite everything, I hear myself giggling. I wipe at my face and smile at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You know what. I’m going to get ready for bed while I’m in there.” I head over to pull my gown out of my bag.
“Okay. I will too.”
I go to the bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth. I usually take a bath or shower before bed, but I just don’t have the energy tonight. I pull on my gown and go back into the room.
Damian is wearing his pajama pants and nothing else. He leans over to kiss my mouth lightly before walking past me into the bathroom.
He’s only in there for a few minutes. Then he turns off the light and gets into bed beside me.
When he reaches out for me, I go willingly, but I say, “I’m honestly not sure I’m up for sex tonight.”
“I know that,” he replies gruffly. “What the hell do you think of me?”
“Well, I think you’re a guy who really likes to have sex.” I stretch out at his side since he’s holding me so close I can’t do anything else. I wrap an arm around his waist and like how it feels there. Intimate. Tender.
He tilts his head down to press a soft kiss into my hair. “I do really like to have sex with you. But it’s not like I’m some horny bastard who’s led around by his dick. I can tell