“Resting in one of the guest rooms.” I walked right past those doors on the way here. Didn’t even bother to look because I thought she’d be in her own room. “She came up about an hour ago. I think the curtains are thicker in one of the other rooms.” He shrugs.
I follow him, talking as we go.
“She’s been more tired recently,” he says.
“She’s been staying up later, maybe till two or three.”
“Really?” Damon seems surprised. Our footsteps are heavy as we descend the staircase.
“Yeah.” I don’t elaborate although his gaze is prying. “What time is she waking up?” I question.
“Around nine. I guess that’s why she wanted a nap.”
“What time did she lie down?”
“’Bout … two hours ago maybe?”
We go downstairs to the kitchen and Damon shrugs on his coat. I try to ignore the disappointment gnawing at my gut. I wanted to see her. I wanted to hear her voice. I want to know what she sounds like when she whimpers because her ass is red and she’s falling into that loss of control.
With his keys jingling in his hand, I decide to wait for him to leave and then I’ll prepare to wake Ella. We have more boundaries to set. “Wanted to talk to you about something,” Damon starts as he pats his pockets, checking for his keys and his wallet. Tension pulls my spine tight. Damn it. This is the moment he’s going to tell me he knows about Ella. That he saw the way I looked at her in the courtroom. That she spilled to him the details of our arrangement. I brace for it. I’m not ashamed. It’s what she needs.
“Go ahead.” I hear myself say it, and I’m proud of how normal I sound.
Damon leans against the kitchen island. “I heard you paid Harrison a visit.”
Well, shit. I should feel relief, but it’s only slight. “Yeah? Did he tell you that?”
“He mentioned that you stopped by. You know he doesn’t give details—he only mentioned it in passing. He said he was glad to see you.”
“Okay.” What is this conversation? “Is there a question in there?”
“Are you okay, man?” Damon’s tone is genuine. Empathetic. It’s what makes him a favorite of our clients. “We haven’t spoken about the hearing yet, and I know it has to be eating at you.”
The air sweeps out of my lungs. Of course. The hearing. My gaze drops to the floor as I get ahold of my bearings and then look him in the eye to answer, “I’m doing all right. It’ll be better when it’s all over.”
“I know it won’t bring her back, but—” He shakes his head, looking off toward the kitchen window. “She deserves resolution. As much justice as she can get. So do you.”
My throat goes dry and I busy myself making a pot of coffee. That familiar ache returns. I’m comfortable telling Damon the truth. That’s why it slips out of me now. I’m not used to holding back with him. He’s seen me at my worst. “You think she’d want me to have closure? Sometimes I think she wouldn’t want that, since the whole damn thing was—”
“Don’t say it.” Damon holds up a hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He allows us to sit in silence for a moment, the only sound being the drip of the coffee maker. I take a deep breath, then another. Four-count. And then do it again.
Finally I respond, “I know.” Don’t I fucking know. I’ve worked through this with Harrison. I’m done working through it. And then a moment like this comes along and all those doubts are back in my head. I remind myself what happened is a ball in a box. “I know. But it feels like the blame should be mine.”
“No, man. Quincy wouldn’t want that. It didn’t matter how things were between the two of you. What happened wasn’t your fault. If it was, you’d be the one on trial.”
Quincy was good. She was a good person, and I didn’t trust her to know what she wanted from me. I didn’t trust myself to be honest with her about what I wanted. It’s what drove us apart in the end. That and the fact that we just weren’t right for each other.
“Look, I’m here.” Damon slips his hands in his pockets. “I need to get out of this house and find some food, but—” I laugh at him in spite of myself. “I’m here. You know?”
“Yeah.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Get out of here.”
He goes, leaving me in the silent house and waiting on Ella so I could feel something other than the emptiness I feel right now.