distinctly a car key, the other a house key. The key chain is an angel.
What am I going to do with this man?
Chapter Thirty
It’s Wednesday, and I’m in the garage at Ahz. The Mustang is parked down the aisle, and the sight of it makes my heart flutter.
The last time I saw Damon was at the hospital and all I wanted was for him to crawl into bed and hold me. My emotions are tangled when it comes to him.
I’m passionately in love with him, but I can’t settle for anything less than all of him. Growing up, I never fantasized about loving a man who could only love me halfway.
My panic rises when I reach the door. I bend over, trying to put my head between my knees so that I don’t faint.
“Are you okay?” His voice startles me as he rushes forward.
“Yes. Fine. Feeling a little lightheaded. I guess I still get nervous driving after the accident,” I lie. The only thing I’m nervous about is this meeting with him.
We walk together into the restaurant. The maître d takes us to a private table.
“You look awful. You need more sleep, and you need to eat better.”
“Thank you. Saying I look awful starts dinner off perfectly.” Sarcasm oozes from me.
“I’m sorry. It’s been several days since I saw you, and you’ve lost weight. You don’t look rested. Despite that, you’re still beautiful.”
“I don’t need to worry about my diet because Greta feeds me daily. That is no doubt, a directive from you.”
“If she’s bringing you lunch, she’s doing it on her own. I have no control over my staff any longer. They circled the wagons around you. They won’t answer questions or tell me anything. I’ve tried to check on you. I ask Trevor, and he hangs up on me. Greta won’t even talk to me. The only information I get is from Emma—if she answers, and it’s always a curt ‘she’s fine.’”
I laugh.
“It’s not funny. I’m the damn president of my company, and none of my employees return my calls.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not funny, but believe me when I say I’ve got nothing to do with it.”
“They like you more than they like me, and I get it because I like you better than I like me, too.”
Over dinner, we sip wine and prepare ourselves for a difficult conversation. Once the coffee comes, he begins.
“Katarina, first and foremost, I need you to know I didn’t invite her to the grand opening. She came with a guy named Tory Blake, and although you saw a kiss, I didn’t kiss her.”
“I understand all that,” I tell him.
“Then why aren’t we together? Why are you not lying in my arms every night? Why do I feel like my life ended on Friday night?”
Tears prick at my eyes.
“We can’t be together because I’ll never be okay with happy and content. I want love. I want someone to love me like his life depends on it.”
“But I do.”
“You only feel that way because not loving me means losing me. The one thing I know about you is you’ll get what you want no matter the cost, and my heart is too priceless to use as a pawn.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches across the table to touch my fingers.
Just that little touch does things to me. It makes me want to forget everything that’s happened and crawl into his lap, but I can’t.
“You have to love yourself before you can love me. You have to let go of your past to have a future. You’ll never be able to love me until you let go of Mara.”
“I’m not interested in Mara.” He sits back and runs his hand through his hair. It falls messily across his forehead the way it does after we make love.
“You’re not over her. I don’t know what she did to you, but whatever it was, it put your life on hold for a decade. Will you need another to figure it out? I don’t have ten years to wait. I want to fall in love, get married, and have children. I want things you can’t give me.”
“She slept with my brother!” he screams in anguish.
What can I say to that? I’m sorry doesn’t scratch the surface.
A single tear runs down his cheek. He swipes it from his face, rises from his seat, and leaves, but I can’t move.
It didn’t happen to me, but I can imagine the pain and betrayal he feels. The two