Page 33 of June: Jess' Story

“You should go to sleep, it’s late,” he says a bit brusquely. But he’s right.

Lazily, I crawl to a standing position and stretch my hands over my head, bringing my t-shirt up to my rib cage. As I do, Damian makes a choking sound.

“Are you okay?” I turn back to look at him where he has a water bottle halfway to his lips.

“Went down wrong.” I just nod, but I don’t move to go to my room just yet.

There’s something weird happening. I know Ishouldgo to bed, but my legs feel like they’re stuck in concrete. And I don’t want to go. And lay in bed alone. And maybe have to think about my life. I’d rather stay here…with him. Where it’s safe.

And the fact that neither one of us is moving now is only heightening the awkwardness.

Finally Damian breaks. “What’s wrong?”

A single tear slips out before I can respond and Damian’s on his feet in a heartbeat, warm arms surrounding me. He’s a great hugger.

There’s tears, but I’m not exactly crying. I’m also not exactly sad about Tommy as much as I’m just sad about my life. About my daughter’s life. About Eden’s family. I always dreamt of having that big family. With lots of kids running around and aunts and uncles. I always dreamt of getting the family I never had. And now, I know I’ll never have it. At least not how I planned. Not with Tommy. And not anytime soon. Andthat’swhat's making me sad.

After a couple minutes of Damian just being present (he doesn’t push me to talk, doesn’t even move), he says, “Bed time. It’s hard right this second, but not for long, okay?”

I nod against his chest and then he turns to lead me to my room, snagging the baby monitor off the coffee table as he does.

“You’re a good friend, Damian.” Maybe even the best. He’s the only person I can be totally honest with right now.

Huh.I don’t think I’ve ever lied to Damian before…

“I know,” he says sort of smugly, making me laugh.Cocky son of a bitch,and I elbow him right in his abdominals.

“Oof!” He fakes a laugh and injury.

When we get to the door to my room, I turn towards him to say goodnight. But again, the words don’t come. I push down the reason I’m speechless. I push that shit as far away from my mind as possible lest the words slip out against my will. I physically swallow them down, becausethis, what’s happening right now, well it’s not supposed to.

He’s my best friend’s ex-husband. He’s my husband’s best friend. He’s engaged for fuck’s sake. But all of that…and still there’s a magnetism to him.

Probably because he’s somehow become my closest friend with Brit in California. Probably because I know I can tell him the truth without judgment. And probably because I’m just a lonely fuck. That’s it. That’s the real reason.

So instead of saying something I’ll regret, I tell him the partial truth. “I just don’t want to be alone…at least not right now, not yet.” When our eyes meet, he knows. He sees it all.

He leans forward, and with a hand cradling the back of my head, he gives me a gentle forehead kiss. Somehow it amplifies this broken-hearted feeling instead of comforting it, but I don’t say anything.

“I can’t, Jess,” he says quietly.Oh god.No, of course he can’t.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, Damian. I was just…” It’s pointless to explain when even I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking. “Nevermind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And without waiting for his reply, I slip into the room, being careful to shut the door slowly and quietly to let Eden keep sleeping.

Damian’s large hand reaches out before the door can click shut, though, slipping into the room with me and causing my breath to catch.

“I’ll stay for a little bit,” he whispers and relief floods me.

Without another word, we both settle onto the bed, already in sweats and pjs. We lay back in tandem and then his hand reaches out for mine. I slip my hand against his, and he holds it, simultaneously holding me together without even knowing it.

I take one long blink. Then another.

His hand squeezes mine and the simple gesture reassures me, soothes me. It’s my permission slip to step away from the living world.

On the next long blink, I fall hard into a dream that’s equal parts fantasy and nightmare.

It’s still dark out when I wake up to the sounds of gentle, rhythmic breathing. It takes me a second for my mind to wade through the sleepy haze and realize it’s not the sound of Tommy’s erratic snoring, but Damian’s deep inhales and relaxed exhales.

The panic doesn’t come for me. The wrongness doesn’t yell at me to get up and run. It’s just comfort. He stayed. Because he knew I needed it. I needed him. Brit would have done the same if roles were reversed. But it’s not Brit, because I can’t tell her just yet. She has enough to deal with as it is.