Page 95 of Damon
I stand then walk across to the window. When I look out, I’m shocked to see a large RV parked in the corner of my garden. At the wheel is Damon, and next to him is a little girl I’ve been desperate to see for weeks. He leans across and unclips her from her car seat, then gathers her little body into his arms before climbing out of the vehicle.
I watch on, stunned, as he closes the door and carries her across the garden to my front step. He doesn’t notice me watching, completely lost in his own thoughts. His lips move as he speaks to his daughter; then they disappear out of sight and my doorbell rings.
Frozen to the spot, I don’t move. The bell sounds again. My uncertainty keeps me where I am, and after a few minutes I see him walking back to the RV. He opens the side door then glances back to the house. Our eyes meet—he pauses before stepping inside the vehicle holding Annie. Immediately, my phone beeps with a message.
I’m here to talk when you’re ready.
But Annie would love to see you, today.
The sheer joy that consumes my body from head to toe is breathtaking. I walk back to the window, looking out at the RV plonked in the small space in front of the cottage. Inside, I can see Damon moving around from the chest down; in his hand is his phone poised ready to answer.
My heart tightens; they’re here, outside my home, to see me. But my head warns me to be cautious, if I consider a relationship of any sort with Damon and Annie again, I need to be sure it’s a permanent arrangement. I’m not willing to allow the rug to be pulled from beneath my feet again—it hurts too fucking much.
***
Three days later, Damon and I still haven’t spoken verbally. He stays in the RV, emerging with Annie to go out for a walk or play for a while in the garden. When I come out of the house, he doesn’t approach, but I can feel him watching. We agreed via message that I could spend a little time with Annie the day they arrived. He brought her to my door, simply handing her over.
“Ma-ma,” she cooed, holding out mucky little fingers and wobbling in my direction. I’d dropped to my knees, held out my arms, and she ran into them willingly. The tears fell fast as I held her. When I looked up, Damon was watching our interaction, his jaw slack and a look of guilt clearly etched on his features. He smiled softly then turned and walked back to the RV.
Every day since they arrived, she’s come to visit. Our agreement is unspoken—he brings her to the front door then leaves us. Annie wanders around the house like my little shadow as I go about small tasks. We cuddle on the sofa to watch terrible children’s TV filled with singing cats and tone-deaf presenters. I tickle her tummy, and she giggles, with rosy-red cheeks and perfect dimples. Having time with her has made me feel so much more whole, like the balance of work and family is slowly being restored.
Our current setup won’t be able to continue forever. I have to return to London in a few months, and no doubt Damon will be working in some capacity. I know he left the police force and his employment is now a mystery. My gut tells me he’ll be moving to darker work which makes me nervous, but I’ve been aware since early on there is a lot more to Damon McKinney than first appears. The potential father, diligent police officer, and husband I met at the illicit fertility clinic has so many more layers to unveil. In my heart, I know I haven’t found them all yet, and I doubt I ever will, but I hope to.
This morning, just after I had switched on the living room light, a message sounded once again on my mobile.
Check the doorstep.
When I went to my front door, there was a mug of hot chocolate sitting on the mat in my favorite mug from Damon’s house in London. It was made perfectly, the way I love it, with the ideal milk-to-chocolate ratio. Next to it was a picture, obviously drawn by Annie. The white sheet was filled with lines and scribbles in various colors.
Smiling to myself, I picked the two items up and went back inside. After drinking the delicious hot chocolate, I attached the drawing to the front of my fridge with a magnet, then went about my day as if nothing had happened but with a smile permanently on my face.
***
Each day since he has left a mug of hot chocolate on the doorstep, and I’ve seen Annie in the afternoon. One week ago, this all began. Their presence has been felt, not overpoweringly, but I can sense my need to speak to him increasing day by day. He’s here, in my space, but not demanding anything of me. Our conversation is kept to messaging, merely arranging my time with his daughter.
Small changes have been happening around the house and garden. The hedge has been mysteriously trimmed, and a lawnmower was sitting ready to use when I returned home from the store. I had been cooking my dinner when I heard the drone of the machine attempting to cut the wild grass surrounding the cottage. As I looked out of the window, Damon was pushing the wailing machine up and down. Annie was nestled in the carrier on his back, ear protection firmly in place. His strong forearms flexed as he moved, and my body hummed softly as I watched them.
It was as if I was in the center of a Hallmark movie—the romantic normality of life is all I’ve ever wanted. Love and family. In that moment, I could have convinced myself I had it.
Tonight, he brings Annie across as he has every other night before. He stands on my doorstep as I wrap my arms around her. Pushing myself to stand, I look him straight in the eye as the little girl clings to my leg. “Thank you for cutting the grass,” I tell him honestly. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll sort that gutter tonight,” he replies, signaling to the roof of the house. “Don’t want to risk a leak in the property while you’re here.”
“How long do you plan to stay?” I ask, my nosiness getting the better of me, and those eyes that melt my resolve take hold. My mouth dries, and I have to stop myself taking a step toward him.
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as what takes?”
“To have a conversation with you about us. I won’t push you, but I’ll be here until we do.” He cocks his head to one side and smiles genuinely. “Whether we happen, Emma, is still unknown, but I know I need you in my life for her.” He crouches and tickles under Annie’s chin. “But I do want to apologize properly for what I did on New Year’s Eve, and perhaps we could discuss the possibility of trying again.”
“I don’t know,” I reply, spooked by his honesty. “What you said, it broke me. I’m not sure there’s a prospect of us after that.”
“It’s up to me to prove there could be. As I said, when you feel ready to talk, I’ll be right here. Until then, I’ll keep myself busy, and you can spend time with Annie.” He takes a deep breath, biting his bottom lip, clearly nervous. “I won’t take her from you again. What I did was unforgivable. The past three months, I’ve had a lot of time to think. There is no excuse for how I treated you, and all I can do is apologize and hope perhaps you may be willing to give me another chance.”
“I’m glad you’re here, but at this point I don’t think I can promise you any more than friendship,” I say softly as my eyes drop away from his. My body tenses, yearning to touch his. My fingertips tingle with frustration at my stance.
“We were friends first.” I look up at him and watch his large frame expanding and contracting as he speaks. His breath catches slightly, and he clears his throat. “You were there for me at one of the worst times of my life. You were an incredible friend, and I’ve abandoned you, twice. If you can offer me friendship, I would be a very lucky man.” He rolls his lips, screwing his face up a little. When his expression softens, he says, “And I know I have no right to ask, but I would love a second chance of creating a family with you as my partner.”