Love Always, Damian (5 page)

Damian backs out of the driveway, and as he glances over his shoulder, I see the wheels turning in his head. The muscles in his jaw tense, and there’s a heavy glint in his eye. My being here is probably as awkward for him as it is for me, though for different reasons.

Because he never loved me.

“How are your folks?” he asks when we’re on the road.

My parents are older, and four and a half years ago, my dad had a massive stroke. He lost the ability to walk, even talk for a while. Physical therapy has helped some, and he can use a walker around the house, but it exhausts him. Damian was there for me when it all happened, and for that I’m thankful.

“They’re okay, I guess. Mom’s tired, and she had to hire a part-time in-home nurse to help take care of Dad.”

Damian nods. “I’m sorry, Elle. That sucks.”

“It’s life,” I say, and as soon as I do, silence drops over us like a wave. I break the surface first. “How about your dad? Things good between the two of you?”

I ask because after Liam and Nora died, Damian and Jackson were constantly at each other’s throats. Instead of mourning their loss together, they grew further apart. But from what I understand, Kate Browdy helped bridge the gap.

“We meet for dinner at Hickory Park every Thursday night.”

I smile at that. “That’s awesome.”

We’re at the diner now, and we both order coffee. Damian gets sausage gravy over their advertised made-this-morning-fresh buttermilk biscuits, while I settle for a waffle with fruit.

It’s a little tense between us, and since I’m not going to ask him the favor I originally planned on, I don’t have much to say. He waits for me, though, sipping at his coffee with two creams and twice the tablespoons of sugar.

I unzip my purse and pull out a package of natural sweetener. I sprinkle it in and leave out the cream.

“That’s different,” he says, noticing. “You used to dump so much shit in your coffee that it ceased to be coffee.”

I snicker because it’s true. I probably single-handedly paid someone’s yearly wage at Coffee-Mate. “I guess I got used to the taste of the coffee itself.”

A few moments of silence passes again before Damian breaks it. “You gonna tell me why you wanted to see me?”

No.

I shrug. “I was in town and thought—”

“You’d drop by and feed me a line of bullshit?” His eyebrows quirk up when he says it, his blue stare holding me in place and trapping me there. He won’t let go until I fess up.

“I…I had some plans but they got cancelled at the last minute, so what I came here to talk about doesn’t matter anymore.”

Nothing but truth.

Unfortunately, he’s not dropping it.

“How did your plans involve me in the first place?”

“They…didn’t. I mean, not completely. I mean…” I’m flustered. I don’t have an answer, and I am not—
not
—telling him what I originally wanted. “It was stupid, so…” I take a drink to avoid answering.

Thankfully, our food arrives before he can respond.

“Can I get you anything else?” our server asks, and I shake my head.

“We’re good, thanks,” Damian says.

“Enjoy your meal.”

“I think I’m gonna go wash my hands,” I say. I need a minute to reorganize my thoughts and figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of his interrogation.

I begin to slide out of the booth, Damian’s gaze hard on me. Believe me, I understand how weird this must be to him. Four years of nothing, then
BAM
! I show up because I want to ask how he’s been? I wouldn’t buy that story, either.

When I reach the end of the booth, my purse falls to the floor. It’s still open from when I pulled out my packet of herbal sweetener, and now the contents are spread out on the linoleum. Damian scoots over to pick up the items beside him. He hands me stuff: old receipts, lip balm, two pens, a data stick.

And…

“What’s this?” he asks, picking the picture up off the floor.

No. No, no, no, no.

Horrified, my cheeks burn red. He studies it, recognition creeping into his face. His lips separate, and his eyebrows pinch together.

Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have come here today. This,
this
is exactly what I didn’t want him to find out.

He flips the photo around so it faces me.

Bright blue eyes stare back at me, the exact same hue as Damian’s. Long, blonde hair that frames her face falls around her shoulders, and her smile, that sweeter than sugar smile, pushes her cheekbones up so high she squints. I love this picture of Lia—taken only last month when we went to the beach in search of seashells.

I’m caught.

I swallow. “My daughter.”

Chapter 6

Damian

Daughter?

I’m in shock. Ellie’s face softens as she waits for me to piece it together, but deep down, I’ve already guessed. I’m just not ready to admit it to myself.

My gaze lowers to the age written on the back: three and a half years old. I turn the picture back over in my palm. She’s Ellie’s daughter all right: same blonde hair, same heart-shaped face, same small nose.

But I don’t see Ellie in this little girl.

No, I see my mother.

After Mom died, I spent countless hours flipping through the picture albums she kept. Photos of Liam and me growing up. Her and Dad’s wedding day. Her childhood. I’d done it because I never wanted to forget.

And this picture in my hand…is her.

I’m transfixed as I do the math in my head. The visual confirmation isn’t quite enough, even with my own eyes staring back at me.

Nine months plus three and a half years puts Ellie and me together the night before Kate’s burial. May—exactly four years ago.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Ellie studies me, blinking. She’s hoping I won’t figure it out. Or refuse to believe it. And hell, part of me doesn’t. This is too damn big to wrap my mind around.

“What’s her name?” I ask.

Ellie sits back down in the booth, her trip to the bathroom no longer a priority. “Lia.”

“After Liam?”

“Yeah.” She drops her head, and under her breath she mumbles something I don’t catch. “What was that, Elle?” I ask.

She hesitates before she glances up at me. “I said I also named her after Kate. Because…”

I lean back against the booth. She doesn’t have to pick up where she trailed off. The name is because of when and why Lia had been conceived. Finally, we’re getting to the point of Ellie’s visit. This
little
matter she hid from me. What the hell?

I return my focus to the picture as Ellie finishes, “Lia Kathryn is her full name.”

“Lia Kathryn what?” I doubt our daughter has
my
last name.

And I’m right.

“Van Zee,” she answers. Then she lets out a giggle. “I call her Lia-Kat, though.”

I glare at her, and not only because it’s a stupid nickname. This whole conversation is sinking in and getting too damn real. “Like a house pet?”

“No. Like, short for Kathryn, Damian.” Ellie’s shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. “I guess I thought it fit, considering…”

I don’t want to delve into where this is heading. I understand why she doesn’t straight-up call her Lia, but Lia-
Kat
? Why not gut me all the way through and call her Kate? It’s not like Ellie ever knew her.

I’m getting irritated, and I’m pretty sure that’s why Ellie wanted to go out for breakfast. She figures I’m less likely to blow up here, though I’m close to the edge.

“I thought you were taking birth control, Elle. How’d this happen?”

“It’s not fool-proof, Damian. And with everything going on with my parents and planning out the details of my transfer, I had a lot on my mind. I guess I wasn’t consistent in taking them. Plus, since we weren’t, you know…well, I didn’t think I needed them anymore.”

Inhale. Exhale.

My eyes dart around the room as I work to rein in my anger. I realize she had other shit to deal with, but why the hell didn’t she say anything before she let me fuck her? She knows I keep a stash of condoms in my room.

“Dammit, Ellie,” I say, my focus landing back on her. “What did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know, Damian. I…the idea of getting pregnant never crossed my mind.”

“That’s all you got? It didn’t cross your mind.”

She bows her head before her eyes lock on me again. “What do you want me to say?”

Not good enough.

“And then what? After you left, you were too busy living it up in Florida, you just forgot to tell me you had my child?” Hell yeah, I’m pissed. This isn’t something you fucking hide for four years.

Color drains from Ellie’s face. She sucks her lips between her teeth while she averts her gaze, and one of her biggest tells spawns the realization—her nostrils flare. And I get it.

“You never intended to tell me, did you?” I say.

Her pale blue irises flick up to me, and the regret I see in them does nothing for me. “I started a new life, Damian. One with no connections to this place. When I found out I was pregnant with Lia, the last thing I wanted was to drag her into my past. And you…” She pauses. “You were going through enough.”

“Shit, Ellie.” My appetite is gone. I cover my eyes with a hand and squeeze. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? And why is she laying this on me
now
? I drop my hand. “So, what do you want? Child support?”

She’s quick to answer. “No, Damian. Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Then why are you telling me now, after all this time?”

She shakes her head in fast, small movements. “I had no intention of telling you. You found the picture, remember?”

“Well damn. I feel so much better now.” My voice is raising, and it’s caught the attention of some people at the counter.

Ellie sees them too. “Can we go back to your place and talk about this?” she suggests quietly.

I pull a twenty from my wallet and toss it on the table next to our untouched food. Without a word to Ellie, I slip the picture of Lia in my back pocket and slide out of the booth. Heading out the door, my head is spinning. This was definitely not the bomb I thought Ellie would drop.

This one is nuclear.

I get in my car and Ellie joins me two seconds later. She doesn’t say anything to me on the short trip to my house, and it’s a relief because I need to think.

I have a kid—a daughter. I don’t know anything about kids. I mean, other than Brennan, the little boy with cancer who befriended Kate at the hospital, I have no experience with them. And Lia’s like, a toddler. Basically a baby, right?

What do you do with one of those?

Ellie didn’t want me to know about her, so does Lia even know about me? What does she think when Ellie takes her to the park where other kids’ daddies are pushing them on the swing? Or…

Fuck.

Maybe my little girl does have a father in her life in the form of Ellie’s boyfriend. I can’t help glancing over to Ellie’s fingers in search of a ring. There isn’t one. Even so, the thought of some guy being with Lia when I didn’t even know she existed shoots a fresh stab of anger into my chest. How could Ellie have kept her from me?

Then again, what would I have done had I known?

I don’t have an answer for that. In fact, I’m so fucking out of answers that I’m desperate for a drink to clear my mind.

Talk about messed up.

In the garage, I park my car, but I don’t make a move to get out. Beside me, I can hear Ellie’s soft breaths, and like me, she’s not reaching for the door. I focus through the windshield at the empty wall in front of me.

I squeeze the steering wheel, holding my breath until my lungs are on fire. I’m trying so fucking hard to hold it together right now.

I shake my head and throw the door open. Get out then slam it shut. I don’t give a rat’s ass what Ellie thinks, I’m pouring myself a drink. Or two.

Hell, this calls for a whole bottle of something strong.

I grab one of those small juice glasses from the cupboard Dylan pours his OJ into each morning, toss in a couple of ice cubes, and top it off with Captain Morgan. The liquid goes down easy, but I’ll need a hell of a lot more to work through this “I’m a father” thing.

I lean against the counter, the glass in front of me, when I hear Ellie enter the kitchen. I’m on my second glass of rum now, and I still don’t have a fucking clue what to say to her.

“Alcohol doesn’t solve all the problems of the world, Damian,” Ellie says from behind me.

“No, but it helps deal with them.”

Ellie’s beside me now, giving me one of the too-wise onceovers she learned from my brother. “It only gives you something to hide behind.”

I chuckle at her little philosophy lesson. She should talk. “Like hiding the fact that I have a kid so you wouldn’t have to deal with it?” I rattle the ice in the glass and shoot her a wink. “Sounds the same to me.”

I go to take another drink, but Ellie swipes the rum away from me. “What the fuck, Elle?” I say, stunned that she had the gall.

Her eyes burn into me. I’ve seen her like this before, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of it. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” She dumps the alcohol down the drain. “This is why. You’d rather wallow in your self-pity and pain than let anyone in.”

Oh, I don’t think so.

I’m pissed as fuck now. “What the hell would you know about letting anyone in? In case you’ve forgotten, I
did
let someone in and she fucking died, Ellie. But you? You ran away. So, don’t give me any of your bullshit. You didn’t tell me because you—
you
—wanted a new life, one that didn’t involve any connections to Liam.”

Her bottom lip trembles as she glares at me, and I know I’ve hit the motherlode. Good. She doesn’t get to come here, lay all this shit on me, then blame me for it. I didn’t ask to be a dad, or for Ellie to return in the first place. I’m beginning to think she should’ve kept her fucking secret to herself and stayed in Florida where she belongs.

I don’t need this shit.

I turn away from her and start toward the living room. As I do, I dig the picture of Lia out of my back pocket. Her small, happy face peers up at me, and I instantly realize I’m wrong. No matter what the circumstances are, this is something I should know about.

Now, I gotta figure out what to do with it.

I hear Ellie enter behind me, but I don’t face her when I speak. “Why did you come here if you didn’t want to tell me about her? Why now?”

“Because I
was
going to tell you about her,” she says, the anger filtering out of her tone.

“What changed your mind?”

When Ellie doesn’t respond, I swing around to look at her. Her eyes are glassy, her lips curved inward like she’s trying not to cry.

“What changed your mind, Ellie?” I repeat.

She stares at the floor when she answers. “You. That girl who was here. The rum.” Her gaze rises to meet mine. “I came to ask you a favor. I, uh, was accepted to a research team to the Great Barrier Reef this summer—a big one. Tagging sharks. The friends I trust in Florida all have internships or other projects and couldn’t take Lia for that amount of time. And you know my parents can’t, not with Dad’s medical issues, so…so my plan was to ask you.”

She’s not really asking me right now. No, she’s simply reiterating out loud that my life isn’t stable enough for a child. She’s not wrong. But it still doesn’t give her a right to withhold my daughter from me.

Even so, I can’t be a father. I don’t have an answer for the question she didn’t ask. Hell, I’m not doing so good at taking care of myself. The words still spill out before I can stop them. “I want to see her.”

~*~

Ellie

I’m weak.

Damian doesn’t get it, and I’m not going to enlighten him. My feelings for him, not Liam, were the reason I left. I’ve always known he didn’t love me, and for a while, I was okay with that. But then, after Liam died, after I realized I’d fallen for the other Lowell brother, I hung onto the hope that maybe he would someday.

Someday was definitely not today. I’ve got to quit thinking that it will ever happen. It’s way past time to move on.

And after this morning, after seeing his flimsy one-night stand, his beeline for the liquor cabinet, I know I can’t leave Lia with him. Damian is not cut out to be a father, not now anyway.

So now, as I’m driving back to my parents’ house, I’m kicking myself for agreeing to let him see her tonight. I couldn’t say no to him, though. I’d expected his surprise, but the utter betrayal behind those blues I love so much? Nothing had prepared me for that.

One-handed, I fumble around in my purse, searching for my phone while keeping my eyes on the road. I find it, pull it out, and tap Blake’s picture. It’s best to tell him I’m not going to Australia sooner rather than later. I doubt he’ll be happy, but Blake’s a good guy, and he’ll understand. He’s been a reliable friend every step of the way since Lia was born.

“So what’s the verdict?” he answers.

I puff out a sigh into the phone. “Negative.”

“He won’t watch her, huh? I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” The disappointment in his voice rings out loud and clear. Heck, it’s in my own voice too. This trip was huge.

“I didn’t ask, but I can’t leave her with him. He hasn’t changed. When I arrived there this morning, some super hungover girl emerged barely dressed from his bedroom. Then, after I told him about Lia, he went straight for the booze.”