Accept Me (2 page)

Months ago, on June 8th, I stared at my reflection in my tiny bathroom mirror, thinking about how shitty that day was going to be. The anniversary of my parents’ death was like doomsday every year. If I had known that was the day I would meet the love of my life…
again
… I would have gone to work early and maybe taken more time doing my hair and makeup.

He poured into my life like the sunshine that followed him into the store that morning and I’ve been his ever since. I’ve been his the entire time, really, almost as if it was by design… like I was never even my own to give.

There was no falling in love with Damon. I was not swept off my feet and convinced to be his love. He came into my life, took my hand, and I
breathed
him. Loving him so completely is just a side effect of being so fiercely connected. It’s involuntary. I didn’t have to try to love him or imagine myself with him for the rest of my life. The moment he took my hand, it was clear; with just one look in those amber eyes, I knew I was where I was meant to be. At that very moment, I was his. Being Damon’s didn’t feel like a new adventure or some task. It was like coming home to a place I never knew was waiting for me. It was coming to grips with our connection that made my life change.

I’m not the type to believe in bullshit fairytales, but I do believe in what’s tangible. I believe in what I can see and touch, and what I have with my Big Man is real. It’s raw and so damn powerful that it took my miserable ass and shook me down to the frame, leaving me stripped and ready to rebuild. Four months ago, he came walking into my life and I had no idea what was ahead of me. Before Damon, I was alone in every sense of the word. We both went out on a limb to give our relationship a shot. Relationships were an unexplored frontier for me, but I was ready to map it out with Damon. Damaged or not, he was worth the risk. Given our respective histories filled with loss and disappointment, making a go of it was more difficult than I could have imagined.

My Big Man endured so much at the hands of a father who made his disdain for his own child no secret. Edward went out of his way to punish Damon at every turn. He drilled so many insults into Damon’s head that he began to believe that he was responsible for a mother who gave him up, a car accident that wasn’t really his fault, and my formative years spent homeless and struggling. My love has a way of focusing on all the negative parts of our past, whereas I just wish he could understand how much he’s meant to me, how much he saved me.

It was Damon who recognized how important the bookstore was to me and Damon who saved the store that spared me from homelessness over seven years ago. He was there when I found Captain on his living room floor. He was there in the hospital when I said goodbye to the man who was like a father to me. Captain was a crotchety old bastard but he was mine and watching him slip away in that hospital bed destroyed the heart I didn’t think I had. Damon stood watch as I mourned. While the initial burn of heartache has waned, I still ache for Captain, and Damon sees me through it. He always has.

Finding out that Damon has carried the burden of guilt all these years has only made my heart of stone a little softer. I don’t believe that a man who has done so much for me and for Grams could possibly be responsible for the car accident that ruined four lives. The way he loves me and soothes the ache inside me, the way he thinks carefully about what’s best for me and my future—all proof that he isn’t capable of hurting me. I nearly lost him to a web of lies and blame, but I refuse to let him be the only one doing all the saving. He pulled me from that car but I pulled him from his own tangled wreckage of guilt. Edward was wrong. He never should have shifted the blame to Damon. I was wrong. I never should have walked away from him when I realized that my familiarity to him was because of our interlaced history. I should have allowed him to explain. I didn’t and nearly losing him was the punishment I deserved. Enduring weeks upon weeks with Zombie Damon as my companion was difficult. I wanted to give up so many times but I just couldn’t. I clung hard to the life preserver that was my stubborn will and it paid off. I brought him back from the prison of guilt that he locked himself in.

We’ve come a long way in a disarmingly short amount of time, but nothing has felt more right. I’ve never been happier than the day, three weeks ago, that he walked me through the house he intends on sharing with me. He stood there, in our new home, and asked me to be his wife. His wife! Forever! Seeing the inscription on the engagement ring drove it all home for me.
My heart resides with you.
Papa’s inscription to Maman is elegantly scrawled inside the band of a ring that symbolizes so much promise for our future together. Damon knew how much that inscription would mean to me. He accepts me as I am. Flaws, painful reminders, and all, Damon accepts me for who and what I am. Merely his presence makes me want to be a better person. I’ve never wanted to be better so much. I’ve never wanted to fight my past, his past, and our fucked up connected past more than I do now. My motivation is tall, handsome, wounded, and he occupies my heart. A few minor things stand in the way of our perfect-screwed-up-life, but I readily accept whatever challenges lie ahead, because for me, there is no other option. Damon is it.

I walk with initiative into Grams’ soon-to-be former residence with my cell phone pressed to my ear. Today is moving day and I’m not sure which one of us is more excited. I needed a few days to break Grams out of the old folks’ home and get her settled in her private apartment at the new house Damon bought when he proposed (something I’m still kind of in shock about), so I delegated all responsibilities at the store to Noni. She seems to be eager to dive into the mountain of work waiting for her, but I’m still feeling a little anxious about it.

“Are you sure you’ve got this thing with the contractor taken care of?” I ask Noni as I hurry into the building.

“Yep. I’ve got it handled, honey. I’ll take down notes for you,” Noni promises.

“Okay, Noni, thanks for covering for me.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow. And Noni?” I wave to Linda at the Welcome Desk while I wait a moment for Noni to respond. She knows what I’m going to say.

“Yes?”

“We can talk then if you want to,” I say, doing my best to encourage her to get through the talk that awaits us. I’m not thrilled with it, so I know she definitely isn’t chomping at the bit to sit down and have the not-so-lovely chat about her past.

“Okay, Jo,” Noni murmurs weakly.

It’s obvious that this is tough for her and I’ll admit that can’t even imagine just
how
difficult it was to give up her child, but we still need to talk. Reliving the whole thing is going to take a lot of courage. She’s obviously scared and she has every right to be. Shit got real in a hurry for all of us. Though I should be used to it—everything with me and Damon is a quick slap in the face from reality.

I swipe my thumb across the screen of my phone to end the call and then drop the beast into my bag, where it hits bottom probably somewhere between my lip gloss and Hemingway’s leash.

As I speed walk down the corridor to her room, I glance at the new hardware on my finger. I’ve done it a thousand times a day since he proposed a week ago. It never gets old. My eye catches the glitter that the single gargantuan diamond puts off and it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time. A smile spreads across my face and my heart speeds with uninhibited delight. It’s a welcome distraction from the
other
new development in my life.

Noni and I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about the phone call that changed everything, even though we’re both painfully aware that we need to. It’s still difficult for me to believe that she—my Noni, my friend—is the woman who brought my Big Man into the world. Conveniently for both of us, work and moving have taken priority over that uncomfortable conversation. I’m dreading it. I think part of me feels like if I ignore this revelation well enough, it will just magically undo itself. Call it denial or ignorance or whatever you like, but the truth is, I’m afraid to learn anymore about Damon’s sordid past. I’m afraid that knowing more will make me feel even guiltier for being dishonest with him and that’s something that carries serious risk. My Big Man is on his way to emotional and mental healing after the disaster that our breakup precipitated. As crazy as it sounds, he’s delicate at best right now. I won’t risk his heart any further. The thought of him hating me for meddling is enough to make my stomach recoil. Silence is my oath.
For now
. Versan is going to have a fucking field day with this one. I’m not looking forward to that session. At all.

I’m walking so fast, my one track mind on my crazy life, that I nearly miss the familiar face standing a ways down the wide hall.
Edward.
He’s the last person that I want to deal with today. The sight of him makes me sick and angry all at once. The pissed off part of me wants to run at him full speed with some type of medieval weapon, ready to pummel his head. A maul, maybe. Or a battle axe. It’s a gruesome daydream, but it’s the truth.

My pace slows as another familiar face comes into view.
Handy
Andy?
And he’s talking to Edward? Against my better judgment, I direct myself straight to them. Andy’s eyes peer easily over Jackass McFuckstick’s shoulder straight to me and he smiles that flirtatious grin that I’ve come to expect… and ignore. Edward goes on to finish what he’s been saying to Andy without even acknowledging my presence. Damon made it clear to his father that he wasn’t to interact with me in the least. As far as I can tell, he isn’t testing Damon. It’s a wise choice. I wouldn’t want the full wrath of my Big Man raining down on me, either. It’s yet another reason I’m beginning to regret knowing what I know.

“I’ve already taken care of it, Mr. Cole,” Andy says.

Edward nods at Andy and turns to walk away. Just when I think he’s going to heed Damon’s warning to leave me be, he makes brief eye contact. “Josephine,” he says calmly. His disposition seems indifferent, but something in that man’s eyes makes my skin crawl.

I know I should refrain, but my mace-wielding inner self charges ahead. “McFuckstick,” I greet him just as curtly as he greeted me. I can’t help but rejoice a little on the inside. It’s a small insult, but it feels good nonetheless. The very least he deserves is an insult or two.
Asshole.
I turn to Handy Andy, who is staring at me with a look of part amusement and part shock. “Trust me, he deserves it.” I shrug and move the conversation into less irritating territory. “Looks like you won’t have to make any more repairs to Grams’ room after today.”

“Yeah. I heard,” Andy replies. “She’s… interesting. I’ll miss visiting with her.”

We both laugh a little at his vague description of Grams. Interesting is a definite truth.

Grams comes into view right on cue, like a lifesaver from the sea of doom that stirs in the back of my mind. She’s dressed in her favorite gear, a royal blue jogging suit paired with her usual brightly colored running shoes. It’s such an impractical clothing choice given her age, but it matches her spirit to a T—she’s bright and witty and full of energy. I love Grams and I make it no secret. Damon knows how close she and I have become over the course of my relationship with him. Moving her into our home means so much to me—I’m excited to have a real family again. I hated having to go to some retirement home just to see Grams. Having her so close will mean she’s safe and taken care of by the two people who love her most. Most importantly, she’ll be away from staff who have no vested interest in her happiness or well-being. They remind me of the caretakers in the orphanage; they do their job, but beyond that, I don’t think they really care about Grams just like I don’t think the caretakers at the orphanage really cared about me.

“Hey, gorgeous!” I coo upon entering her room.

She turns to me with a smile mirroring my own. It’s a sight that makes my heart swell to the bursting point.

“Hey! You come to break me outta here?” she teases.

“You got it. Looks like you’re just about ready,” I say, observing the neatly stacked moving boxes in the corner waiting to be picked up by the movers that Brian hired for the job. Handy Andy’s work, no doubt. “I see Andy must’ve helped you a little?” I raise a brow with my little innuendo.

“Nuh-uh!” she scoffs, wagging a finger at me. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

We both laugh at our usual banter. It’s another thing that never gets old. From the first time I met Grams I knew I would love her and thankfully, she must’ve thought the same, because our bond was instant. We shared a connection right away, just like I shared a connection with her handsome grandson. I knew when her blue eyes met mine that she was a safe place for me. She was witty, and full of life, and exactly what I needed, especially now that Captain is gone.

“What’s Edward doing here?” I ask, peeking out into the hallway to see if he’s still lurking around.

“Eddie hasn’t visited me since I found out about Damon’s journals. I haven’t had the chance to ask him about the money either. I hope he had nothing to do with that mess but who knows?” Grams’ mood turns grave and we both look to our feet, recalling the composition notebooks that uncovered the years of heinous abuse that Damon endured in silence. Grams hasn’t said much to me about whether or not she has confronted Edward about the notebooks, but I imagine she has. I can’t see Grams holding back after what she found out and she’s definitely not the type to bite her tongue. It’s yet another way that she and I are two birds of a feather. As for the missing money, I imagine her take on it is the same as mine—Damon is taking care of it. It’s as simple as that. I know that in her heart she knows that Edward is likely at the center of the missing money, but he’s her son and despite his destructive behavior, she probably hopes that the check fraud, for once, isn’t his dirty work.

Damon still doesn’t know that I told Grams’ and Elise, his sister, about the abuse, either. He and I have discussed the notebooks, but that’s it. I’ve tried to find the right time to explain, but it just hasn’t come yet. Damon has endured one blow after another lately and I don’t think I could put him through more. Not right now anyway. Thankfully, Elise and Grams’ have agreed to keep quiet until I can smooth this over with him. Secrets aren’t welcome in our relationship and yet I’m walking around with two that are capable of pulling the rug from beneath my Big Man. I’m no idiot. I know that when he finds out he’ll be angry. I just hope he isn’t as mad as I think he’ll be.