It’d been four days since Donovan walked out my door. I tried calling him, texting him, and once, I tried going to his place, but it was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. He wasn’t home, that much I could tell by the house being completely dark. Where was he?
School let out today and the kids were excited to go home for the summer, but I was dreading going back to my apartment. It was lonely and quiet. I couldn’t even bring myself to answer my phone when Kiera would call to check on me. She’d shown up every night with food anyway, making sure that I ate.
I’d called her after I’d spilled my guts like a blubbering idiot to Donovan. I’d even told her that I may love him and that he basically threw it back in my face, leaving me alone on my couch with nothing more than a command to eat. I’d tossed the food in the trash that night and cried myself to sleep.
I couldn’t even get up the nerve to look on the internet for more information about Lila Murphy or Donovan Milano. All I knew was that I loved him and that I didn’t care that she looked like me, but I knew that I deserved answers. Answers he wasn’t giving me, because he refused to talk to me at all.
Kiera was already there when I opened the door. The hard set to her jaw told me she was angry at something. I dropped my case by the coat closet and walked further into my living room. What had her so angry was sitting on my couch.
“Donovan?” I gasped. He looked like hell. He had dark circles under his eyes that matched my own. He stood and looked over his shoulder at Kiera.
She grabbed her purse and walked over to me, pulling me into her arms. “He was waiting at the door when I got here, so I let him in. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you,” I said, biting my cheek to keep from crying. I would not spill another tear for Donovan Milano.
She hurried out the door, closing it behind her. When I turned around, he was still standing there, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans. He looked beautiful, even with the sadness around his eyes. He wore black jeans and a Glock t-shirt. This one had the sleeves cut off, like most of his other favorite shirts. His hair was out of his cap and hung straight down his back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, removing his hands from his pockets.
“No,” I shook my head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you with all of that, but I’d just left the neurosurgeon’s office and I needed someone. I was scared.”
I didn’t mean to throw guilt in his face, but I did and the pain on his face was instant. “Fuck, Heather. I am so sorry.”
I didn’t have time to move back before he rushed forward and pulled me into his arms, his lips crashing down on mine. Tears burst from my eyes at feeling his warmth against me again. I couldn’t be strong with him here, holding me. This was what I’d wanted when I came home and found him here after the appointment, but he had pushed me away and left.
“I’m sorry, babe. I’m so fucking sorry,” he chanted, holding me tight.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Donovan,” I cried. “It’s too hard. I need answers. I need to know, but you haven’t called me, texted me, or anything for four days.”
“I know,” he whispered, holding me tight.
“I’m a mess,” I said, my hands clenched tight in his shirt. I didn’t want to let him go, afraid he may leave again, but part of me wanted to push him away and tell him to run.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“Like her? Lila?” I gasped at my own words.
“No,” he answered. “Not like Lila.”
“Did you fuck me because I looked like her?” I asked, pleading for an answer. “Please, Donovan. Tell me something…anything.”
He pulled away and took a seat on the couch, reaching his hand out for me to sit with him. I slid my hand into his and let him hold me in his lap.
“When I first saw you, I thought I was seeing a ghost,” he admitted. “My heart ached because, just for once, I wanted to see her face again. I just wanted to hold her in my arms one last time. She was taken away from me after we’d had a fight. She left the house angry and was in a car crash. Some asshole ran a red light and killed her instantly. I never told her I was sorry.”
“Oh, Donovan,” I cried. “I’m so sorry.” What he was saying was so heartbreaking. He had tears in his beautiful blue eyes, but he didn’t allow them to fall.
“As the night went on, I kept watching you. The way you moved, the way you smiled…it was nothing like her. I was waiting outside the gate after the show, praying you would just walk by so that I could meet you, talk to you,” he frowned. “Then some jerk plowed you over and I grabbed you before you hit the ground. I wanted to kill the guy for almost hurting you. When we went to eat, you looked so innocent across from me, and then you wouldn’t eat.” He laughed and shook his head, smiling at me for the first time since he started his story.
“My stomach was so tied up in knots. I didn’t want to eat, but you made me,” I blushed.
“Then we ended up here,” he said, pausing to kiss the top of my head, my jaw, my lips. “I didn’t want to leave you the next morning and you were so beautiful when you slept that I watched you for a long time. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. So, I found your phone and programed my number after sending myself a text so that I had a way to contact you.”
“I was so mad when you were gone,” I admitted, twirling a strand of his dark hair around my finger. “I wanted to hate you, but you begged me to try. Was it because of her? Was it because I look like her?”
“No, my little rose. You are nothing like her,” he said, taking a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to be with me because I look like her,” I admitted.
“You are nothing like her,” he repeated his earlier statement.
“Good,” I replied. What else could I say?
“Heather, I never thought I could fall in love again…until I met you,” he said, cupping my jaw. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”
He kissed my tears away, holding me as close as possible.
“Let me feed you, babe,” he whispered. “Then I’m putting us both to bed. I haven’t slept in days.” He released me from his arms, but slid his warm, calloused hand into mine, pulling me toward the kitchen where he had a bag of food already sitting on the counter.
“I went by your house,” I said, once I took my seat.
“When?” he asked, removing Styrofoam containers from the white paper bag.
“On Wednesday night,” I admitted. “It was late and you were not there.”
“I was at Liam’s,” he frowned. “He took me in because I was a mess.”
“You were?” I asked. I was shocked. I didn’t expect him to be in as bad of shape as I was during our time apart.
“He kicked my ass and told me to come talk to you,” he paused, making fists where his hands rested on the counter. “I’m sorry, Heather. I will never be able to make up for leaving you alone that night. I am the lowest form of a human for doing that. Please forgive me?”
“I said a lot of things that you were not expecting,” I sighed. “I should be apologizing.”
“No,” he growled, shaking his head. Those blue eyes darkened, and I saw the pain in them that he was carrying for leaving me that night. “It was my fault, love. If I have to hold you every day for the rest of our lives to make up for not holding you when you needed me the most…then that’s what I will do. I promise you.”
“Okay,” I smiled, tucking my chin. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. I wiped away tears that trailed down my cheek, but he was there to catch the ones that fell afterward.
It took me ten minutes to regain enough composure to sit down and eat the gumbo he’d brought along with a hot baguette. “Kiera said she’d been feeding you to make sure you ate and kept up your strength.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “She’s the only family I have.”
“Not anymore,” he said, conviction evident in his voice. “Please tell me what the doctor said?”
I took a deep breath and pushed away my empty bowl, before I began to recount what had happened at the emergency room and then at the neurosurgeon’s office. I told him that they thought that the tumor could be removed with one surgery, but I may have to have physical therapy for my balance and to rebuild my strength.
“I’ll help you,” he smiled.
“Okay,” I blushed.
I must’ve stood up too fast, because the room started to spin and I lost my balance. I heard Donovan curse as he came around the counter to grab me by the arm, “Heather?”
“I’m fine,” I said, holding my hand up. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.”
“Come on, babe,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Let’s get you into bed. Do you want a bath?”
“Please,” I sighed. “I’m so tired.”
“Me too, love,” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead.