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Love Always, Kate by D.nichole King (11)


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

December 13

Dear Diary,

Leslie said I’m changing Damian, which is good, right? So why do I feel so confused? Are my feelings for him genuine? Am I harboring some idea that I can fix him? If I am, is that necessarily a bad thing?

Yes, it is.

“Dad expected me to take Liam’s place. Become who he was. Instead, I became everything my brother wasn’t.”

You don’t expect me to be someone I’m not.”

I don’t look at him and see Liam, true. Then, what do I see?

The pressure is too much. Maybe that’s why I feel miserable. Everyone’s depending on me, and I don’t know if I can deliver. I try not to show how scared I am.

Ever since the flu, the headaches have been getting worse. I’m hanging onto the hope that they’re just left over from the virus. But I can’t get all the “what if’s” out of my mind.

What if I fail?

What if hope isn’t enough?

What if all my fighting isn’t worth it, and I’m lying on my death bed?

What if I let everyone down?

I play with the necklace Damian gave me. Hope. It’s easy to believe that hope is enough and everything I’m going through is worth it when Dr. Lowell declares remission, or even maintenance. I reach out my hand and try to grasp it, but I never seem to be able to hold on.

Why does another remission seem like a fairytale that I won’t obtain?

 

~*~

 

I called my mom at work to ask if she’d seen my black knit hat. It was on my head, but I needed confirmation that she wouldn’t come home early.

“See you after my treatment. Bye, Mom,” I said, hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath.

I ran to the living room to make sure everything was ready.

Blanket, check.

Pillows, check.

Stuffed picnic basket, check.

Yep, everything seemed set. I paced the kitchen, searching for things to do while I waited. The clock took forever to flip one minute. I even considered moving the clocks forward to ease my nerves.

I was so busy being paranoid that I didn’t hear Damian’s BMW pull into the driveway. He opened the front door, and I screamed.

“Jumpy, huh?” His dimples deepened.

My heart rate hadn’t slowed.

“Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Sorry I scared you.”

He leaned down and kissed me. I jerked back and glared at him.

“Have you been drinking?”

Damian shrugged. “One beer in the car. No big deal.”

I took a step back. “While you were driving?”

“One, Kate. One. It was a rough day. Lay off a bit, will ya?”

His tone cut through me, and I dropped my gaze.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

I lifted my eyes to meet his. His lower lip curled between his teeth.

“Just, please don’t drink and drive, okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

So not convincing. I’d broken the rules by inviting him over, and I didn’t want to fight.

Without taking his hand, I led him to the living room for a candle-lit picnic lunch. He sat across from me, nursing his Coke. I laid out our sandwiches on paper plates and tried to act girlfriendy—whatever that meant.

“You had a bad day?” I tried to sound casual, but it came out rather timidly.

Damian scratched his unshaven jaw. “I didn’t sleep well. And El…A friend called. It didn’t end well.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

I nodded. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

I took a bite of my sandwich and stared off to a spot on the wall. We sat in uncomfortable silence until Damian pushed his plate away, blew out the candle and stood up. I felt defeated. Setting my food down, I slid my knees to my chest, and rested my head over my arms. My jaw trembled as I fought the tears.

Seconds later, Damian slipped his arms around me from behind. His nuzzled his head against my neck.

“It’s not you. I’m being an ass, and I’m sorry.”

He kissed my neck, and the tears started to fall. I turned my face to him and folded my arms around him, digging my face into his chest. He chuckled as he kissed the top of my head.

“Why do girls cry so much?”

I let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know.”

 

~*~

 

I had a headache again on Friday, so I spent the evening in my room wrapped in Damian’s arms. His fingers glided over my skin, comforting me. Somehow, him being there made the headache easier to deal with. I just hoped it was a one night thing.

Since I lost our Mario Kart game, Damian planned a Christmas dinner date for us on Saturday at his house. My parents, thankfully, agreed. I was desperate to get out of my cell.

Just after watching the sunrise, I sifted through the clothes in my closet trying to figure out what to wear. I yanked a blue floral dress from its hanger and tried it on.

“Blech!”

I tossed it on the bed. Maybe a skirt?

My jean skirt seemed too informal, my petti too girly, and the long black one had a hole in it. They all landed on my bed with the dress. Next I tried on my favorite black dress. The bodice fit snuggly around my central line, digging it into my chest.

At ten in the morning, my closet was empty and my bed cluttered.

“Ahhh!” I screamed, digging through my bottom dresser drawer.

Moments later, my mother knocked on the door and poked her head in.

“Uh…” she drawled, her eyes widening at the mess.

“I have nothing to wear tonight. Absolutely nada.” I lay back on the floor with my hands over my head. “I can’t go.”

Mom lowered herself to her knees and bent over me, grinning at me upside down. “You want me to go to the mall? Pick something out?” Her smile seemed genuine, but a flicker in her irises made me pause.

She shifted her gaze to the pile of clothes on my bed. “I’m sure we can scrounge up some money to buy you a dress for tonight. It’s supposed to be special, right?”

“Yes.” I drug the word out. Something wasn’t right here.

“Then you need to look special for it.” Her eyes met mine again, and she showed off too many teeth.

“Uh-huh.” I sat up. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re acting…odd.”

“No. I’m just excited for you!”

“Uh-huh,” I said again, only half-believing her. “Why don’t I come with you, Mom?”

Her face turned serious. “Katie, I really think after your headache yesterday you need to rest up for this evening. Don’t you?”

I hated that she had a point, but she was definitely hiding something. “Fine.”

Mom beamed, and she scurried down the stairs. I swept the clothes off my bed and collapsed on the comforter, not realizing how exhausted I was. Cuddling up with my pillow to rest for a few minutes, I drifted off.

 

~*~

 

“Kate.”

Mom’s voice woke me up. I sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. In her hand, she held up a beautiful red taffeta dress.

“Uh…”

“Isn’t it gorgeous!” My mother exclaimed, ignoring the shock on my face. “You have to try it on. Make sure it fits.”

“Uh…”

Mom frowned. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Uh…I like it,” I uttered slowly. “But it’s a little … over the top, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s perfect.” She flashed her biggest toothpaste commercial grin.

I pursed my lips together. “You’re kinda freaking me out, Mom.”

“Trust me. It’s perfect.”

“But…”

Perfect!

She hung the dress on the back of my door, then spun around before leaving. “Per-fect.”

I offered a fake smile that dropped from my face as soon as the door closed. What was she thinking?

I slipped off the bed and walked to the door. The dress was beautiful. I ran my fingers over the top sheer layer of the skirt. Because she’d bought it, I felt obligated to wear it. I didn’t want to disappoint her.

For the rest of the day, I did as Mom had said and took it easy. The three of us ate lunch together, Mom and I played Rook, then I went to my room to read. At four o’clock, I hopped in the shower.

I glared at the dress on the hanger before taking it down. The halter top hid the central line sticking out of my chest perfectly. The flouncy skirt hung just above my knees. Included with the dress, Mom had bought me a new pair of red pumps.

I took extra care putting on my makeup; I might as well go all out and make it match the formal dress. I even used the glitter eye shadow I’d never opened. The doorbell rang as I spread on a layer of strawberry lip gloss. My mother hollered up the stairs.

“Coming!” I yelled back.

I wasn’t expecting anyone. The clock on my nightstand read twenty to six. I had to hurry; my car had been running, warming up, for fifteen minutes.

Mom stood at the bottom of the stairs with her camera. It flashed with each step I took.

“Really, Mom? Are you making a stop-motion video or something? ” I squinted. “It’s not prom.”

My parents exchanged looks and my dad said, “Pretty darn close.”

Damian’s gonna laugh at me dressed like this.

I paused on the last step and allowed my mother to take a picture of me with Dad. He held me snuggly to him with a goofy grin on his face. Then he put bunny ears behind my head for the next shot. I pretended to shoot him.

When we were done being silly, he held out my black pea coat, and I slipped my arms inside. We walked arm in arm to the front door where a man in a black suit stood holding a bouquet of red roses. I studied them, trying to figure out who’d sent them, then shot a glance to my dad.

He shrugged. “They’re not from me.”

My smile faded for a second before it broadened. I thanked the delivery man and gathered the roses in to my arms. The card attached was written in Damian’s familiar handwriting.

 

I can’t wait to see you.

Damian

 

Wow. Just … wow!

I traced my fingers over the card.

Mom reached over to take the flowers and hugged me too tightly. “I am coming back, you know,” I said, doing an inward eye roll.

“Have a good time, honey.” Mom beamed.

Dad squeezed me into him next and pecked me on the top of my head.

Walking out the front door, I was surprised to see the delivery man still standing there. Did you tip flower delivery people?

“Are you ready, Miss Browdy?” he asked, a black umbrella at his side.

I toyed with the hem of my too-formal dress. Maybe… I skimmed my mom’s face. Her nod confirmed my suspicions. Oh, Mom!

“This way, miss,” the chauffer instructed, opening the door. He stayed to the side as he opened the umbrella for me to walk under.

I stepped over the threshold and saw huge snowflakes falling from the gray skies. I started giggling, wondering if Damian had even planned the snow. Then I noticed the driveway. A black limo was parked waiting for me; my yellow car must have been moved back in the garage. My cheeks already hurt from smiling so wide.

The driver took my arm and walked me to the limousine. He opened the door, and I slid inside. I half-expected to see Damian in the seat, but instead there was another bouquet of red roses and a small white box with a red satin bow around it.

The words “OPEN NOW” were scrawled across the top.

I reached for the box as the limo backed out of the driveway. Slipping off the ribbon, I opened the lid. Inside laid an iPod and a set of earbuds. There was no note inside, so I just stuck the plugs in and pressed the screen. It lit up and a playlist entitled “For Kate” appeared on the screen. I hit play and heard Damian’s sweet voice.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I laughed. No way! Am I dreaming?

“Sit back and enjoy the music. I’ll see you soon.”

The first track started immediately. I’d never heard the song before, and as the singer began the first verse, I realized why. Damian was singing. Probably the song he’d been writing in my room.

 

Find me in hiding

Writing my own story, tell me is it boring, or is it all the same

Old lines, used lyrics

Or is it unexpected with a happy ending

I’m not there yet

Found it hard to

Finish what I’ve started

The right words never shot into my mind

Tell me that you love me

Tell me that you hate me

Tell me the world’s not over me

The world’s not over me.

 

When his song ended, another came on. There were a few songs I’d never heard before, and as we turned into Damian’s neighborhood, Parachute’s “Kiss Me Slowly” filled my ears.

Mr. Dempsey, the chauffer, pulled into the Lowell’s driveway. He opened the limo door. On the ground was a red carpet laid over the walkway leading to the front door.

Oh, Damian!

Christmas lights lined the enormous home and the two white pillars that loomed in front of me. At the end of the walkway, Damian, wearing black pants, a black suit coat, and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, stood holding his guitar. He smiled, his eyes sparkling.

As Mr. Dempsey made the motion for me to take out the earbuds, Damian started strumming his guitar and singing the last song I just had on the iPod. Mr. Dempsey offered his hand, and I took it, rising to my feet. Then he nodded politely and disappeared inside the limo.

Okay, this is too good to be true.

Huge snowflakes floated down from the sky, but I didn’t notice the cold. I only saw Damian walking toward me, singing.

 

“Just stay with me. Baby, stay with me.

Well, I’m not sure where this is gonna go,

but in this moment all I know,

is the skyline through the window,

the moon above you and the streets below.

Hold my breath as you’re moving in.

Taste your lips and feel your skin.

When the time comes, baby, don’t run.

Just kiss me slowly.”

 

He ended the song standing directly in front of me, a coy smirk on his face. I didn’t think; I didn’t need to. Every inch of me wanted to wrap around him and kiss him, oh so slowly. And I did, with the snow falling in around us.

Damian led me inside. His full lips formed into a seductive O when he slipped the coat from my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the hardwood floor. He glided his hands down my bare arms and kissed my shoulders. My eyelids closed as his warmth melted into me. His lips moved to my neck.

He took my hand and led me into the formal dining room. I gasped. The massive table and chairs were gone, and in their place sat a small circular table with two black chairs. A black table cloth that reached the floor covered the table, and a single red rose in a vase had been placed in the center. Small candles littered the floor, making it sparkle like diamonds. Mr. Dempsey stood behind the table with a bottle of champagne.

“Non-alcoholic,” Damian promised.

“This is amazing,” I breathed, sitting down. “How’d you do all this?”

A smirk played on his lips. “Dad helped.”

“Really?” My eyebrows shot up, hopeful.

Damian shrugged. “You’re the one thing we can agree on.”

Excitement drained out of me. “I shouldn’t have that much power,” I murmured.

Mr. Dempsey poured the champagne in our flutes and walked off.

Damian rose his glass. “To you.”

I shook my head. “No. To us.”

We sipped on the champagne. Music played from a CD player in the corner, the same songs Damian had on the iPod in the limo.

Mr. Dempsey placed a salad in front of each of us. After a few bites, I looked down at the plate of greens, over the stereo, then back up to Damian.

“Come on,” I urged, scooting the chair back.

“Oh, no. I don’t dance.”

“Everyone can dance.” I grabbed his hand.

“Yeah. No. Not everyone.”

I yanked harder, and he gave in. “All right, but I warned ya.”

He circled his arms around me and held me close. I leaned my head against his shoulder, listening to his heart beat. His lips pressed against my head as he swayed, not moving his feet. I didn’t care.

When the last chord of the song was strung, I lifted my face.

“See? I knew you could dance.”

Damian grinned, showing off his deep dimples. “All I did was hold you.”

“Close enough.”

He moved closer, kissing me. I hungered for more, but Damian led us back to our table.

“Not hungry?” Damian asked as he watched me toy with what was left of my salad.

“Uh, not really.”

Damian put his fork down, worry lines appearing on his forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Oh! Yes, I’m fine. Just not very hungry,” I assured him. He studied me skeptically. “Really. It’s just a side effect,” I continued.

He picked his fork back up and took a bite, still scrutinizing me. To prove I felt fine, I copied him. He seemed satisfied.

Mr. Dempsey brought in the main course—chicken primavera. I took a few bites but couldn’t force down much. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up. I set my fork down and watched Damian cut his chicken.

“Much better than the hospital cafeteria,” I said.

He laughed. “So is burnt liver.”

I bit my lower lip. “You’re different.”

“You’re worth it.”

“Are you happy, Damian?”

He curved up the corner of his mouth until he glowed. “I’ve never been happier.”

“And the consequences of this happiness?”

He reached for my hand across the table and squeezed it. “Good, bad, I’ll take it all.”

Leslie’s words rang in my ears: If he falls for you, and you die, it’ll kill him. My voice shook. “And if…”

“No matter what happens Kate, being with you, right now, tonight, is all worth it.”

I hoped he was right.

A tear slipped from my cheek as I gazed into his brilliant blue eyes.

And I suddenly realized that I loved him.

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