Chapter 21

Damien

She did it.

Fuck!

She’s left me speechless. Everything I wanted to argue, she argued first.

Fuck!

I shake my head trying to clear the confusion filling it, but I realize it isn’t my mind that’s confused. It’s my heart. And on so many levels, she’s right.

For far too long I’ve hidden the real Damien. The guys know me as a jokster, and that’s who I am normally. Only she doesn’t know me like they do. To her, I’m the asshole who’s done nothing but break her fucking heart every chance he gets.

She fought hard to break through my barriers, and at the end of it, despite the guilt churning in my gut, I feel hopeful.

Hopeful that my heart can have what it truly wants.

Love. Forgiveness. Her.

Them.

I shake my head again trying to tell my heart a firm NO, but I’m unable to do it. I blink once, then twice before comprehending Penny isn’t standing in front of me anymore. She’s disappeared.

“Fuck,” I swear to the empty air around me and walk into the cabin. It’s dark and cold. I shut the cabin door and walk across the room, shedding my shoes and jacket as I do. I walk down the hallway and stop at the closed door, listening for any sign of her. I hear nothing. No sound comes from her side of the door, and it kills me. I reach down to check the doorknob and find it locked.

Fuck!

She’s locked me out.

I take a breath trying to figure out why I care so much. This is what I wanted, isn’t it? For her to realize there can never be anything between us, so it’s best to keep our distance. The sooner she realizes I’m not the one for her, the better off we’ll both be.

Right?

I lift my arm to place a gentle knock on the door.

“Go away,” she mumbles from the other side, and my heart rails in my chest, aching over two little words. But then, she’s never turned me away.

“Penny, please let me in.” I should walk away. I should be relieved. Maybe she’s finally realizing what I’ve been saying all along. But I don’t and I’m not.

I groan, irritated with myself because I’m still standing at the door begging her to let me in, and I can’t figure out why.

No, that’s a lie.

I know why.

It’s the same reason why I open my mouth and say the words I thought would gut me.

“She’s my mother,” I croak. My body shivers, and my heart throbs so hard in my chest I think it can stop beating and the pain will still be there. “Starla is my mother.”

“Where is she?” I hear Penny’s soft voice ask, and the sudden rush of air fills my lungs with relief. I know she’s standing on the other side of the door.

“She died.” The sound of the lock turn and the door opening is like music to my ears. Penny stands in the doorway, her jacket on the floor behind her along with the large boots. The oversized T-shirt I put her in when we got home and knee-high socks she had on send my body into a fit. She looks at me with wide blue eyes filled with sadness, but I don’t see a speck of pity. Only genuine sadness. I suspect it’s because she knows what it’s like to lose a mother. She lost hers long before her stepfather sold her.

“How did she die?” she whispers and steps across the threshold to wrap her arms around my middle. She buries her face in my chest.

“Cancer,” I croak because my throat feels like it’s closing up. I haven’t spoken about my mother since the day I flew back to Afghanistan and rejoined my team. I didn’t tell anyone what happened, not even the fact that I holed up in some cheap motel, drunk off my ass, and didn’t go to her funeral. I’ve bottled this up for a long time, but I can’t hold on to it anymore. My eyes burn from the unshed tears I’ve refused to let fall since finding out about her death. “I didn’t go to her funeral. I couldn’t.”

She leans back to look at me, and all I can do is look into her blue eyes, seeking the strength I need to get through the next part. My arms snake around her waist, holding her to me because I’m afraid to see her walk away again. Especially after learning about the kind of asshole I am. And I want to have her as close as possible until then.

“My oldest sister, Astrid, sent an emergency telegram. She needed me to call home immediately. I knew something was wrong but didn’t expect it to be my mother.”

“Was she sick for a long time?” I nod, swallowing down the emotions.

“She was in remission when I left on my deployment. It was the third time she managed to overcome the cancer, but it turns out everything they told me was a lie. Everyone knew she was dying and it wouldn’t be long before it claimed her. Instead of telling me, they fed me lie after lie about how much better she was doing.”

“I’m sorry, Damien.”

We stand in the doorway of the small bedroom, holding on to one another like our lives depend on it. Holding her is easy and has a strange calming effect on me. Then again, everything about the woman in my arms has had a strange effect on me. One I’ve never felt before, and it’s not for lack of trying either. I’ve been with many women over the years; none of them made me feel this way.

“This is why I can’t be with you, Penny. I’m broken. Too broken for a woman like you.”

“Why didn’t you go to her funeral?” she asks, ignoring what I’ve said to her. I swallow hard, reliving the moment I stepped onto US soil and everything hit me, knocking me out of the dreamlike state I was in after I called home.

“I was angry. At my family. At my mother. But mostly at myself for not seeing the signs. They were obvious, but I was desperate for her to be better,” I admit, feeling my chest tighten. “As much as I want to blame my family, I can’t. I had a hand in the deceit. Deep down, I knew she wasn’t well, but I boarded the plane anyway and didn’t look back.”

“You were close to her.” It’s not a question but an obvious fact.

“I’m the youngest of five. The only boy. Saying I was close to my mother is putting it mildly. She was my best friend and partner in crime. While my sisters had my father wrapped around their little fingers, I was my mother’s weakness.” I pull her tighter against me and close my eyes, allowing the scent of her jasmine body lotion to consume me. “Losing her... changed me. It nearly destroyed me.”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to hold on to me like I hold on to her. Giving me strength and understanding. She doesn’t realize how much this means me. I ignore the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me to stop, telling me how much harder it’s going to be for me to let her go at the end of this, because I want to live in the now. With her. Even if it’s just for a little while.

“I haven’t been home since that deployment. Haven’t seen or spoken to anyone. My sisters send me an occasional email, but I never respond. I’m too ashamed.” I should feel ashamed of myself for treating my family this way, but I don’t. Whether she thinks less of me or not, I don’t care. The words I’ve said here tonight are words I should’ve said a long time ago.

“Damien,” she whispers softly. and my ears perk up to the sound of her voice. Hoping she realizes now I’m no hero and I don’t deserve a chance at happiness. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Don’t you see? I’m no good. I turned my back on my family without a second thought.”

“You were grieving,” she explains, and while it makes sense, it still doesn’t excuse all these years of silence from me. The more I try to explain to her why we can’t happen, the more she pushes in the opposite direction, trying to give me a miraculous out.

I can’t have that.

I won’t allow it.