“Close your eyes,” I hear him say from afar. A couple beats. “Please.”
I’ve heard him say the word please more times this past week than he has since he bulldozed into my life. It’s unnerving. I can’t seem to reconcile this side of him to the loud, destructive force that I’ve come to admire in the most twisted of ways.
“Are they closed?”
Against my better judgment, my eyelids flutter shut, and I stand in front of the unknown. “Yes.”
His footsteps grow louder as he approaches me, and my pulse quickens.
“Open.”
And I do.
My heart clenches as I stare at the canvas Damon holds out in front of me. I take in the details, the colors, the textures, and I'm instantly captivated, drawn into his world, his mind.
It’s a painting of a deep dark forest, the jagged branches and trees giving me access to his inner most thoughts. A river flows through the heart of the forest, its surface shimmering with the faintest reflection of the moon above.
I tilt my head, studying the painting.
Perhaps it’s not a moon at all, but a ball of energy, a ball of hope. The golden orb hovers in the sky like a promise. And it’s beautiful. Damon’s hope… It’s beautiful.
Damon's soft, almost timid voice breaks the silence. "I painted this for you.” He swallows, visibly nervous. “You’re the light, Emery.” His finger glides along the bumpy texture of the oil paint until he gently circles the orb. “This is you.”
I’ve seen his graveyard of half-sketched pieces, of unfinished canvases. But he did it. He finished a painting. He created this breathtaking piece of art…for me.
“It’s beautiful.” Tears well up in my eyes, and I glance up at him. Despite the lies and secrets and hurt, in this moment, I see him. I see the light. And he’s wrong.I’mnot the light. He is. “I’m proud of you, Damon.”
Setting the painting to the side, he takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Emery,” he says, raw and hoarse. “You… You make me feel like I can accomplish anything. Together, we could be unstoppable.”
And then he does something so goddamn foolish.
He sinks down on one knee.
“Damon…”
With a familiar black diamond ring pinched between his fingers, he looks up at me, expression tender and brave and so misguided.
“I know that these past two weeks have been chaotic, that I’ve made so many fucking mistakes,” he begins. “But I love you, Emery. And I know you love me. I know that you’re scared and I’m scared too, but let’s be scared together. Let’s take this leap of faith…together. I can’t undo the past, and I can’t change what I did, but I can promise to do better. Iampromising to do better. Let’s forget the past. Let’s forget everything and start new.”
I shake my head, teeth clenched to stop myself from breaking down in gut-wrenching tears. “Get up, Damon.”
“Emery…”
“Get. Up. Right now.”
“But—”
“Get up, Damon,” I repeat myself, my hands shaking. “You need to get up right fucking now because I amnotdoing this with you.”
His face twists with genuine confusion. “Doing what?”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious? Damon! This entire week you’ve been parading Maya around the villa, rubbing her in my face, and now you’re proposing to me? Can you honestly not see how fucked up that is?”
“And you’ve been with Quinton,” he retorts, but there’s no venom in his tone. Surprising. “We both made mistakes. We’ve both…acted out of fear. It’s?—”
“Fear?” I blink down at him. “What you did was not out of fear, Damon. It was out of resentment. You even said so yourself. You wanted to hurt me. You wanted to use Maya as some sort of revenge device.”
His teeth clench, and regret captures his dark, desperate eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-I was just so angry. I was…lost.” He swallows. "Lost in my own insecurities. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, Emery, and it clouded my judgment. I-I allowed my fear and jealousy to drive me to do things I never should have done."
