One week had passed since the accident, and I was getting used to taking care of Damien. He had previously made himself out to be a lot more difficult than he actually was. Occasionally he would be picky about his food or demand things to be a certain way, but he was always very lighthearted about it. Damien spent most of his day tapping away on his laptop a couple keys at a time since his hand use was limited. I offered to help several times, but he always insisted it was "boring work stuff" and "there's no need". Whatever he did for work, Damien held onto that information like a vault. I can't say I wasn't insanely curious.
My insomnia had been severe that entire week, and I often found myself sitting in the small balcony, overlooking the city. I was constantly thinking about how I didn't deserve such a comfortable life. Even aside from what happened with Damien, I never felt like I had truly deserved anything good, and the majority of my life up to that point had proven that theory.
I walked in one night to see a bright light coming from the nightstand. It was Damien's phone being bombarded with texts. The strange thing about Damien is that no matter how many people he seemingly got along with, not one person had come to visit him after he got injured. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have a thousand friends. That's why I was all the more curious when he was getting so many texts at 4 in the morning.
I know it's not right to snoop, but I had to see what kind of guy this was, right? I mean, he's practically a stranger. It's for my safety... Yeah. Safety.
Yes, through a roundabout way, I justified snooping through his phone. Unfortunately his phone had a password, so I could only see the text previews. He was being bombarded with texts from a guy named Ron saying stuff like "We need to take care of them for good or else..." and "The Brennans are asking too many questions. We have to kill..."
I gasped loudly, dropped the phone, and immediately regretted it while clasping my mouth shut with my hand. I gently picked up the phone and placed it back on the nightstand. Thankfully the painkillers made Damien knock out to the point a semi-truck horn wouldn't be able to wake him up. More importantly, what the hell kind of texts was he getting in the middle of the night? I lay in my little pullout bed thinking of all the possibilities. My imagination was running wild thinking of how someone his age could've acquired this amount of wealth.
Maybe he had inherited the money. If so, what kind of 'work' would he possibly need to do? Oh my god, is he part of the Mafia? Maybe he's a hitman. I lay flat on my back while staring at the ceiling. I couldn't possibly sleep thinking about a contract killer only a few feet away.
After some restlessness, I quietly walked over to Damien to examine him. He was definitely pretty rough looking with stubble on his face and a sharp jawline. His short hair was messy and wispy against the pillow. I brushed a few wisps away from his face with my fingers. His long eyelashes lay delicately against his cheeks. There was no way someone this beautiful could be behind anything malicious, I thought.
Before I knew it, Damien was blinking his eyes open and looking back at me, my hand still resting on his face. I pulled my hand back, but Damien quickly grabbed it. He pulled me toward him, arching his head up to mine. His gaze was strong, and the rising sun made his hazel eyes sparkle. For a moment, I was completely entranced. But I caught myself and jerked away. What was I doing?
"S-sorry. Couldn't sleep," I stumbled over my words.
"Hmm?" Damien rubbed his eyes, his question came out like a low grumble with his tired voice. "What time is it?"
"Um..." I glanced over at the small, digital clock on the bedside table, "6:42. It's still early." I shifted uncomfortably next to the bed. What was that moment just now and why was Damien acting like nothing happened?
Damien yawned loudly then turned to look at me. He brushed his hair back with the palm of his hand. "Wait... why are you standing there? Did I just... I thought I was dreaming."
"I'm going to make breakfast." I blurted out attempting to change the subject. I rushed into the kitchen and hid my face behind a cabinet door. I wanted to scream. Of course he was half asleep earlier. He had no idea what he was doing. But for just a second, it really looked like he wanted to kiss me. I shook my thoughts away and prepared his breakfast.
To this day, I don't have a single clue how a man who eats a pancake breakfast every morning keeps the type of body he has. I was getting tired of the smell of pancakes, but Damien happily ate every bite as if it was his last meal. He also insisted on being spoon fed for every meal despite having one functional arm. The first few meals, he would stare at me intently as I fed him. It was pretty daunting. After some time, he started watching tv or scrolling on his phone while he ate, but he still insisted I fed him. Every now and then we would have some polite chit chat while sharing meals, but nothing beyond that.
"Where are you going?" Damien asked inquisitively.
I was fiddling with the ribbon on my apron, trying to tighten it around my waist.
"I have work today. Remember?"
"Work?!" Damien seemed genuinely shocked as if it was his first time hearing about it. I rolled my eyes.
"Yes. Work. You know the thing people do when they need money to like, survive or whatever? Some of us still need to work."
"You don't need to work. You work for me."
"I think you're misunderstanding. I'm paying off a debt to you as a necessary favor, but I don't work for you. You don't pay me. I still need to make my own money." I didn't want to tell him that I still didn't trust him, or that if things went south, I had a backup plan.
"What if I need to pee? Who's going to help me?"
"It'll only be for a few hours," I reassured him. I picked up an empty plastic bottle and smacked it down on the nightstand. "Here. If you need to pee, use this."
Damien's face filled with disgust. I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer contempt he had looking at this bottle. I leaned over some to become eye level with Damien.
"If you need anything, just call. Okay? You have my number now. I'll make sure to listen for it."
Damien gave me a defeated smirk. "I always need you, Val."
"Here at Sunny Side Up, what should we be...?" Matteo inquired with his fingers up and a stupid grin across his face."Sunny," I grumbled."That's right. Now, no more distractions and make sure to smile," Matteo emphasized for the third and final time today.I gave him a half-hearted, tight lipped grin that seemed to satisfy him enough to leave. As soon as his back was turned, I slumped over the bar counter and looked at the bustling of customers enjoying their brunches."Matteo's being a real pain in the ass today," Kay whispered while carrying a tray stacked high with plates of half eaten eggs Benedict, French toast, and an ungodly concoction of all other breakfast foods smooshed tog
Damien spent 5 restless nights with the flu. During that time, he lay sweating in bed nearly half naked, complaining about being hot one minute then cold the next. I had run out a few times to get medicine and groceries but would come back quickly to make sure he was still okay. I began to realize I cared a lot about what happened to him even outside the scope of our deal. I chalked it up to a standard sense of human empathy-- nothing else.Most of my days were spent cleaning him and making him comfortable. He didn't make many snarky remarks during that time, but he always looked at me like he wanted to say something to me. A look of worry seemed to occasionally flash through his face then disappear in an instant. Something bothered him, but I knew he wouldn't come out with it on his own."Why do you look so concerned?" I asked while giving Damien his daily sponge bath. He needed these more frequently now due to the excessive sweating. I did feel proud that he was finally looking more
After a cold shower, I came to a conclusion that Damien was just some deranged pervert that lured me into his home. The cocky look on his face as he fondled me kept popping up in my head. I can't say I hated it, in fact... I quite liked it. I wasn't going to tell him that, though. Maybe I was also a deranged pervert. I put on a bra this time, not wanting to repeat the same mistake. This couldn't happen again because if we crossed that line between caretaker and... whatever that was, there was no going back. The last thing I wanted were for things to be awkward between us. It was too late though. The tension between us was palpable. He was passed out by the time I came out of the bathroom, but the following days were filled mostly with silence and uncomfortable pauses. I avoided any conversation with him that wasn't directly connected to his recovery or chores. He was back to his old self, typing away on his laptop, and occasionally sneaking glances in my direction. He tried to be su
Rustling of magazine pages and light taps were the only sounds filling the small waiting area at Dr. Helder's office. She was the best physical therapist in the city, and Damien made sure of it. He always dove headfirst into researching any topic that was of importance to him, and being able to walk again was extremely important. He wasn't the only one that knew Dr. Helder's qualifications, a fact which was amplified by the amount of people crammed into the small waiting area. "Uggghhh," Damien groaned loudly, alerting the attention of everyone in the room. "What's wrong with you?" I asked, a little agitated by his verbal outburst. "How much longer? What's the point of an appointment if I still have to wait?" He complained. "I'm hungry!" I rolled my eyes, and took out a granola bar from the backpack I had placed on Damien's wheelchair. "Eat this and shut up, please," I pleaded with a harsh whisper. He took a bite and gave me a tight lipped smile, a huge chunk of granola bar fill
Tension hung in the air around us in that small elevator. The silence was deafening as we waited for our rescue. I kept glancing over at Shawn expecting him to say something rude. He always looked like he had something to say but not anything I wanted to hear. He had refrained from opening his mouth so far, so that was all that mattered.Seeing him under that bright elevator light, I realized why Darcey was infatuated with him. Objectively he was fairly handsome with a strong, slim build towering to an imposing 6'2". His dirty blonde hair was styled to look messy with probably a hundred different hair products. He had piercing blue eyes that some may find attractive, but to me, they were soulless.I was sitting on the ground near the elevator buttons with my legs crossed in front of me. I tried to distract myself with my phone, but it proved pointless against the flurry of thoughts going through my head. Damien had been typing furiously on his phone. He had the same expression on his
"You've got some nerve coming back here," Darcey stated angrily.She had a point. I really wasn't trying to see her ever again, but circumstances made it hard not to come back. She turned her focus on Damien, her features softening a little at his presence."Oh, and who might you be?" She asked flirtatiously, her finger twirling a strand of her hair. I could tell when Darcey was flirting immediately. She was not subtle."Hi. I'm Damien. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand out. Darcey shook his hand but lingered for a moment."Can we come in?" I asked, trying to distract her from Damien. She gestured us in then pulled me aside immediately after closing the door."Who is that hottie with you? What happened to him?" She asked in a harsh whisper.I sighed and rolled my eyes. I definitely saw this coming a mile away. Darcey always wanted to be involved in my business, even more so if an attractive man was involved. She had a tendency to want everything I had, which was usually v
I bit my bottom lip and traced the little red marks on my back with my fingers. Damien had apparently been holding back during the weeks I spent with him. It had become obvious that he wanted me once I saw the way he had narrowed his eyes, the hypnotic swirls of green and gold igniting at my touch. It felt good to be wanted even after I had shown him some of the worse sides of my personality. I was awkward, quiet, and insecure. But no matter how much I showed that side to him, he remained unfazed, always greeting me with a smile.I sighed at the unknown of where we would go from here. After we had sex in my bed, Darcey promptly kicked us out for being too noisy in an apartment that I no longer lived in. She was not very happy seeing me in that tight little dress, not because that proved we were up to no good, but because she would've definitely taken it for herself if she had found it. In our rush, I only ended up leaving with one box containing two plants, a couple of skirts, a t-sh
Girlfriend? Did I hear that correctly? A wave of nausea crashed into me as I watched Gemma caressing Damien's face and speaking to him lovingly. Her words didn't register in my head. All I could hear was static as I tried to process what was happening.I had built Damien up to be this charming, caring guy, but in truth, I hardly knew him. Now I was facing the consequences of being delusional."Excuse me," I choked out before running out of the apartment. I heard Damien calling after me, but I didn't care. He had taken advantage of my timid nature, lulling me into a false sense of security. Everyone in my life had always disappointed me, and now he had added himself to that list.I sat down on a bench not too far from the building. I wasn't intending on leaving since I promised to take care of him to pay off a debt. We had crossed a line we shouldn't have, so the best option was to backtrack to a professional relationship.I placed my head in my hands, attempting to hold back tears. I