Her hair is up in a messy ponytail. She’s wearing a simple, long-sleeved shirt, black yoga pants and sneakers. She has flour on her cheek and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I almost want to put a stop to everything that’s going to happen tonight, tomorrow, next week…
But I can’t. I have to think about my family and getting my revenge for their deaths. I don’t want their suffering to be in vain. Justice needs to be served…
“Don’t be shy, Damon. Grab an apron,” Sue tells me, breaking me out of my reverie.
Flashing her a grin, I take one of the black aprons hanging on a hook and wrap it around my waist. I’m wearing a light green button-up shirt and black pants, and the special gift I have for Victoria is currently burning a hole in my pocket. The small box feels like it weighs twenty pounds instead of twenty grams.
Victoria turns, and her smile takes my breath away as she says, “There you are. I was wondering if you were going to show.”
“You’re here. So where else would I be?” I ask, laying it on thick. I scoop her into my arms and give her a big smooch, earning us some cat-calls.
Slapping me playfully in the chest, she pulls out of my arms and says, “Let’s get to work. We have a lot to do.”
I soon learn firsthand that Victoria isn’t kidding about the workload. I didn’t realize how much preparation went into making a meal for close to a thousand people. According to Sue, the Thanksgiving meal at the soup kitchen always brings in the most people.
As the dinner starts, Victoria and I stand side by side. I dish out the mashed potatoes while she dishes out the corn.
A lot of the homeless recognize her and praise her for being a good and caring person. I, of course, already know all this, but it’s nice to hear that she’s widely known for her good deeds and kind soul.
I realize halfway through that I can’t stop smiling. Damn, it feels good to give back to the community and especially to the less fortunate. I know what it’s like to be homeless and hungry. And sometimes just the simple act of someone being there for you with a hot meal can get you through another day on this earth.
When I spot a man in the doorway, my smile slips, however. I recognize him from the articles in the newspaper. The same man I spoke to on the phone earlier. He gives me a nod, and I give him the same back.
The line has slowed down considerably, and so I take it as my chance to do what must be done. Turning to Victoria, I take her hand in mine and stare into her beautiful blue eyes.
“Victoria, there’s something I need to ask you.” I reach into my pants pocket and pull out the ring box before flipping it open behind my back.
Her cute brows furrow on her forehead. “Sure, Damon. Anything,” she says.
Getting down on one knee, I hold out the ring and look up at her. Her other hand goes to her mouth as she gasps, and there are collective reactions around the entire kitchen and dining hall. All eyes are on us as I tell Victoria that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. “I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I just can’t imagine my life without you in it. So, I hope you will do me the honor of being with me forever. Will you marry me, Victoria?”
She hesitates for only a second before she exclaims, “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”
I place the ring on her finger before capturing her in my arms and kissing her like our plane is going down. And when we surface for air, I can see the reporter with his cell phone trained on us, taking photographs of the whole thing, just like we had planned.
When I look down at my beautiful fiancée, I lie and tell her, “We’re going to be so happy together.”
I crush her to me once more, no longer able to bear to see the look of happiness on her face, and ultimately knowing that sometime, in the very near future, I’ll be hurting her more than anyone ever has in her entire life.
CHAPTER 26
VICTORIA
THE NEXT MORNING at Damon’s apartment, I’m eating a late breakfast while he’s in the shower. While I’m staring at my engagement ring, still in disbelief, my cell phone rings.
My father’s name comes up on the caller ID, and I frown. It’s highly unusual for him to call unless he needs something.
“Papa?” I answer.
“I have to read about my daughter’s engagement onPage Six?” he roars into the phone.
I drop the piece of bagel in my hand. “Page Six?” I croak before jumping out of my seat like I’ve been shocked.
Glancing around the room, I noticeThe Postlying on top of Damon’s coffee table. He picked up a copy while grabbing us coffee and bagels this morning. Snatching up the paper, I unfold it while my dad continues to rant and rave through the speaker.
