Page 93 of Damon
“Does she have a boyfriend yet?” Russell continues the conversation. My senses are on high alert as questions are being asked tonight that I have been dying to know the answers to. Twelve weeks without her have been hell—I miss her more than I could ever imagine. All Harrison will tell me is that she’s safe.
There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty for how I pushed her away, and the nasty lies that came out my mouth when I told her I would never see her the same as my late wife. Even as the words passed my lips, my senses screamed at me to stop. But as I walked into my kitchen that morning after losing my job, seeing her live the life Connie should have had pushed me over the edge.
That morning, I wondered what the fuck I had been doing all these years, and I was going to make sure Emma didn’t get hurt because of me in the future. Ending us seemed the right decision in the heat of the moment, and I knew the easiest way to get her to go was to use her insecurities over my late wife against her.
What a bastard move.
“I can’t imagine a girl like that would struggle to get cock.” My focus snaps back to Russell, pissed off with his statement. His eyes lock on me, and he silently dares me to say something.
“Now boys,” Hunter says, standing and walking over to where Russell and I sit next to each other. “Let’s not have you two scrapping over a woman again.” He grabs each of our shoulders and shakes. “I mean, McKinney was stupid enough to let her go, I’m sure he feels an idiot without us pointing it out.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snarl, my eyes moving from Russell to Hunter. Harrison and Connor watch on quietly, listening to every word.
“Exactly what I said. You were an absolute fuckwit letting her go.” He raises his eyebrows. “You’ve been a miserable bastard ever since she left.”
“Fuck off.” I don’t argue, because I can’t. It’s true. The house is empty without her. Annie is missing the female influence in her life, and it’s all down to my shortsightedness, not embracing the opportunity in front of me when it was there. My mind was so warped with grief and confusion, my sense disappeared.
“Ever considered saying sorry?” Connor proposes. The room falls silent, and his suggestion sits between us all. I drop my eyes to my fingers clutching the beer bottle, but I feel them all watching me. Waiting for me to say something.
“It’s too complicated,” I say under my breath.
“What is?” Harrison says, his tone sharp. “The fact that you’re getting a second chance at life while Connie died? That’s guilt, not complication.” His words are blunt, and my eyes rise to meet my friend’s.
“No; she’s over ten years younger than me and deserves a life without all this.” I wave my hand around, and Harrison rolls his eyes. “She never wanted to be a mother to begin with. This was a crazy chain of events. She deserves a life as near normal as she can get. Her childhood was ruined, and she spent the rest of it in hiding. Being with someone like me would be a death sentence to normality, and we know it.”
“This is the same Emma who’s working with them,” Hunter says, gesturing at the three lawyers. “The one that is hellbent on becoming a lawyer. The one that came to our little rendezvous on New Year’s Eve and stabbed a man in the neck with a knitting needle. You expect her to want a normal life? Would you prefer she marries a door-to-door salesman or a gardener?” I bristle at the thought of her marrying anyone except me, and a familiar pain hits my chest. My desire for something new is twisted with my loyalty to my late wife.
“Maybe a ski instructor,” Harrison chimes in. “She has a date with one tomorrow night.”
“A ski instructor would be good,” Russell says. “I mean, think of the traveling she could do. He’ll be fit, so he will be able to keep up with her. And the kids, well…between her brains and his athleticism, I mean they would be damn near perfect.”
“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” I bark. The bastards all laugh, loudly.
“His name is Arlo,” Harrison continues, a wicked smile on his lips.
“What kind of fucking name is Arlo? And how do you know all this?”
“She was telling one of the receptionists when she phoned in earlier today. He asked her out for a drink after a few weeks of flirting. Something about her being bent over milk bottles.”
“He did what to her over milk bottles?” I question, pushing myself up to stand.
“I assume only flirted, but some people have strange kinks in the bedroom. I mean, this is their first official date, but I think he’s been trying for a while with what was said.” He pauses. “I did hear the word ‘hotel’ mentioned.” Harrison’s eyes dance as I turn away from him to leave. “Where are you going?” he shouts to my back.
“To get that bloody woman and bring her home.”
“Do you not need to know where she is?”
I rotate back to face him. All the men in the room are sitting in their chairs, badly hiding amused smiles. I place my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes.
“Well…” I prompt.
“Say please.”
I lift a hand and rub it over my face in frustration. “Please tell me where she is.”
“Aviemore.”
“Scotland? You sent her to Scotland? Could you not have picked somewhere further away?” I say sarcastically.