at her, I knew who she was, and who he belonged to. He would never be mine if he couldn’t reconcile his past with her.
My hands shake, but I need to keep moving. There isn’t time for a breakdown. When I get home, I’ll let it all out, but for now, I need to focus on getting through the next few hours.
Tears fall, but I tip my head back, willing them to return to where they came from.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I approach my car and find Damon leaning against the door. My heart aches at the sight of him. Where there used to be love, now there is pain.
He was right. I knew nothing about it until tonight.
“Katarina, please talk to me. I’ve been trying to find you all night.” His eyes plead, and his voice cracks.
“Damon, if you do nothing else for me in your life, step away from my car and leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk. I’m tired, hungry, and I want to be alone.” I don’t know where that strong voice came from, but the woman who spoke was fierce and meant business.
“Let me take you home and feed you. We can talk.” He steps from the car and moves toward me.
My palm shoots out like a stop sign. “Stop. Don’t touch me, don’t talk, and don’t call me. I’ll contact you when I’m ready, not when you decide it’s time. Now move out of the way so I can leave.”
He steps back, and I get into my car, start the engine, and drive away.
In the rearview mirror, I see him standing in the center of the garage alone and as broken as I feel.
I make it home in record time and can’t move fast enough toward the front door. I fumble with my keys as the tears fall. With Em staying at Anthony’s tonight, I’ll be alone in with my grief.
The bottle of wine Rose gave me weeks ago sits on the kitchen counter, and I can’t think of a reason not to open it.
My phone beeps continuously as messages from Damon flood in. I glance at the screen and see his plea to let him know I got home safely.
“I’m safely home.” I type back and turn off my phone. Over the next hour, I empty the bottle.
I wake up on the couch, still dressed in my leather pants and silver top. Subconsciously or consciously, I avoided climbing in bed. Sleeping there would remind me of the last time Damon and I were there, and I wasn’t ready to deal with it then, but today is a new day.
Bracing myself for the emotional impact, I move to my room and take an inventory of my life.
On the dresser sits the flowers he sent the day after I met him. They dried so beautifully that I didn’t have the heart to throw them away. Now they’re a reminder of our relationship. Dead and lifeless.
In the corner of my room is the plain brown box full of possibilities I’ll never experience. Opening my closet door, I come face-to-face with his section. Hanging neatly on the rack are a few of his suits, a pair of jeans, and several shirts. I hold the lapel of the black suit and bring it to my nose. The smell of him lingers in the fibers and permeates my soul. The only way to get him out of my life is to erase him from it.
I return to the kitchen to gather the supplies I need to expunge Damon Noble from my life, or at least my home.
Armed with a trash bag, I toss the flowers, pack up his clothes, and throw the brown box in the back corner of my closet.
I rip the sheets off my bed and toss them in the washer with double the soap. Satisfied, I strip myself and head to the shower. The hot water flows over my aching body and hides the tears I shed while I try to wash away his essence.
The ring of the house phone cuts my shower short. Fear stops me from answering it right away. It might be him, but by the third ring, I give in.
“Hello.”
“Thank God! Where have you been?” It’s Em, and she’s frantic.
“I’ve been home. I turned my cell phone off last night and fell asleep. What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Damon showed up this morning still wearing his suit from the opening and smelling of alcohol. All he said was that you left him,