The rest of the weekend turned out to be uneventful, leaving Melanie both disappointed and relieved by Damien’s radio silence. Monday morning, she channeled her energy into creating talking points for the podcast slated for recording later that week. She also needed to finish the article covering top contenders for the Davis Cup.
One of her bosses rounded the corner as she waited for her papers to print. “Hi, Dale!” Melanie was finally able to tell them apart by a small freckle on the man’s nose. “Did you get a chance to chase down—”
Then she noticed what he was wearing: a T-shirt with that silly picture of Damien and the cat on the front. She slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified by the T-shirt. “H-how did he get to you?”
“He promised us an exclusive with a certain basketball phenomenon by the name of Deshaun on the New York Knicks.” Dale shrugged and his twin, Dave, came over, wearing the same thing, as well as a shit-eating grin. He snapped a picture of her horrified expression with his phone.
“We couldn’t say no to that offer. Besides, we wanted to see the look you have on your face right now.”
“B-but … he’s not a publicist anymore.”
Dave patted her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Deshaun confirmed with us this morning, and we’re sending a crew to his hometown. No one has ever gotten him to open up about his past!”
Melanie stomped away from her bosses and darted her eyes around the office. They were all wearing the shirt. Everyone, from the marketing department and sales, to her team of writers. On the back, it read, “Team D and Mel.”
Except for Meena. No way would she be caught dead in a 100 percent-cotton T-shirt. For the first time, Melanie appreciated the receptionist. Throughout the day, coworkers stared and sniggered behind their hands or even came up and said, “Just forgive him!”
After the last well-meaning lecture about the power of forgiveness from, of all people, the human resources director, she locked herself in her office.
After a long and unproductive morning, she took a lunch break to get a very fattening hot dog from a very shady food stand and slabbed it with mayo, mustard, and ketchup. Shoving the tasty treat down her throat, she strode back to the office, still pissed.
A few fruitless hours later, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Time to call it a day, Mel.”
Packing her purse and bag, she swung open the door and quickly moved through Cubicle City, where coworkers tried their last-ditch efforts to get her to forgive Damien. Jogging into the elevator before the door slid close, she sighed and leaned against the wall. A dull throb formed at her temple.
No way could she take the subway home. The devious man knew her route and, for all she knew, could have a flash mob waiting at her stop. Hailing a cab, she quickly jumped into the vehicle and gave the cabbie her address.
When she arrived at her apartment, she found her roommate lying on her stomach watching television from the couch.
“Girl,” Melanie greeted her, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door. “You will never believe what that jerk did today! I walked into work and saw all my coworkers with—”
Tiana rolled over with a mischievous grin. “Now what else did that scoundrel do today?”
Her friend was wearing the infamous T-shirt.
“Et tu, Tiana?”
Her roommate grabbed her stomach in a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, girl, but he came over with his puppy-dog expression, and I just … ” She laughed again. “I just couldn’t resist. I’m sorry, but I’m on Team Damien.” Tiana rose from the couch and surprised her with a hug. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but Damien is the man for you, and you know it.”
Lightly thumping Melanie’s nose, Tiana walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of apple juice.
Melanie crossed her arms and cocked her head. “You’re the one who told me to get over him.”
Tiana shrugged. “I might’ve been wrong in the advice I gave you. Damien loves you.”
Melanie stomped to her room and slammed the door. If I don’t stop stomping, I’m going to break my ankle. Cracking open the door, she stuck out her head. “I’m going for a run—by myself,” she said before her friend volunteered to join her. “Then I’m going to relax by myself, take a shower—”
“Yeah, you can do the shower by yourself, too.”
“Glad I have your permission.” Melanie poked out her tongue. “And after my shower, I’m going to sleep. I don’t want any more calls or messages or gifts from Damien. Can you make sure that happens?”
“Yes. You can retreat for tonight, but I can’t promise what happens tomorrow.”
Melanie pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand and gripped the door handle with the other. “All right,” she said after a long-suffering sigh. “Until tomorrow.”
• • •
The next morning, she woke up with renewed energy. Damien had nearly drained and, she had to admit, cracked a huge fissure in her armored heart. As she’d informed Tiana yesterday, she’d exercised and showered—and she’d also prayed. She hadn’t done the latter in a very long time. Her aunt’s words about not going to church haunted her, and she decided to search for a church home as soon as possible. Her roommate had already found a place she liked, and Melanie figured that seemed like a good start.
Satisfied with her plan, she opened her laptop and edited a few articles her writers had sent.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw that darn memory box and could have sworn it beckoned her to take another peek.
“I will not open that box. I will not open that box. I will not … Oh, who cares? No one will know, right?” she whispered to herself, as if there were spies who could hear.
Her heart fluttered, hummed, and then thumped when she lifted the flaps to the box. With a scowl, she picked up the rather tattered friendship bracelet, fingering the frayed threading.
He kept it this entire time.
Shaking her head, she threw the bracelet back in the box, aggravated with her swelling emotions.
That silly heart of hers demanded that she let go of the fear. And she missed Damien. His friendship, his laughter, his love.
It would seem like a simple step from the outside looking in: just go to him. But her mind demanded she remain logical. If Damien had hurt her before, he could do it again. Was there really any other choice but to let him go?
Even from three feet away, that darn bracelet seemed to be speaking to her, too, insisting she put it on.
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed it from the box and tied the bracelet on her wrist.
She jumped from her knees when she glanced at the digital clock on her desk. She’d lost track of time. Noon game at Yankees Stadium. She would be late!
“Time to get ready, silly rabbit.”
• • •
Melanie stretched in her seat after hours of scribbling notes on her yellow legal pad. Looked like the Yankees were easily taking the win. She smiled widely; Jake had truly shined during the game. His recent rise to fame in the sports world was not only earned, but also well deserved.
“I should get a couple of quotes from Jake and the crew. Take advantage of the fans’ excitement from today’s game,” she spoke softly to herself, tapping a pen on her mouth. It was the seventh-inning stretch. Instead of participating in the wave, she drafted questions to ask the players.
“We interrupt our normally scheduled entertainment to show a very important video,” the announcer said “So sit back, and let’s all wish this young man good luck today.”
Melanie lowered her head to finish the questions just as she heard “Fool for You” by CeeLo blast through the stadium speakers.
Her eyes snapped back to the Jumbotron.
A picture of herself as a skinny teenager with knobby, scraped knees appeared—she was wearing a Yankees cap that Damien had placed on her head moments before his mom took the photo. A jolt of electricity charged through her veins, vibrating her body with energy. This can’t be happening.
The caption read: “Boy meets girl.” Next, a picture of her swinging a bat, eyes focused and jaw clenched, came into view. The day Melanie hit her first home run. But what caught her adult eye was the look of pride, joy, and love on Damien’s face. The caption read: “Boy falls in love but doesn’t know it.”
Jesus be a fence. A barb-wired, electrical fence.
More pictures flashed quickly across the screen. Her, Terrance, and Damien dancing in his living room, again with Damien staring at her in awe.
When she saw the picture from prom, she gasped. Tiana had taken the picture—a younger version of herself smiled widely for the camera while Damien stood beside Melanie, his head bent, staring at her. Thinking back, she’d realized Damien hadn’t noticed the picture was being taken. His eyes soft and adoring. Loving. He looked like he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
She’d never seen it. She’d never known. And Damien had never lied about his feelings; she just hadn’t been paying attention. Her vision clouded. A tap on her shoulder sped her heartbeat, and she jumped from the seat.
Damien. Her Damien.
Melanie shuddered at what stared back at her. Love, determination, and a fleeting hint of fear.
Without hesitation, she grabbed his face, kissed him, and the crowd went wild. Breaking the kiss, she surveyed the fans that cheered for them. She waved nervously and blushed when she saw the camera angled at them.
“I’m so sorry for pushing you away, for hurting you.” Damien grabbed her hands and her attention. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again.” Stiffening at his words, she backed away. “No, Mel.” He pulled her closer. “You can’t leave me. What I’m saying is I can’t promise the future or that I won’t do anything else stupid or insensitive, but I learn from my mistakes. And I don’t make the same mistake twice. So I promise never to push you away again. We’re a team. And I love you so damn much. Too much to let you go. Please forgive me.” His amber eyes shone with remorse.
Tears streamed down her face. “I forgive you, D. I love you, and I forgive you, and I want to be with you for as long as I can.” She sniffed, hugging him close.
He moved away from the hug, staring at her with serious eyes. “This isn’t some temporary thing. This is forever. Can you handle that?”
Her heart soared. This was all she’d ever wanted. She answered him with a kiss. When she pulled away, she saw Aunt Dean, Damien’s mother, and Tiana. Aunt Dean tearfully gave her two thumbs up.
“You got everything you need?” He gestured to the field.
“Yeah,” she whispered, grabbing her bag and notes.
“No, you’re missing one important thing,” he said in a low voice and reached into his pocket, pulling out a princess-cut, platinum diamond ring.
She shivered as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Yeah.” She stared at him and looked down at the ring, her throat clogging with emotions. “I think that’s everything I’ll ever need.”
Catcalls, hoots, and whistles surrounded them, creating the sweetest melody.
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Then let’s get out of here and start our forever.”
“Folks, I’m going to call that a home run!” the announcer yelled. “Now let’s get back to the ball game.”