Page 120 of Damaged

I’ve been surrounded by untold wealth the last few months, but when we get up to our suite, my jaw still drops.

French architecture doesn’t pull any punches. It’s as opulent as a room in Versailles. There’s a gold-framed mirror as large as a car greeting us in the foyer. The plaster on the ceiling curls and twists in designs like frosting on a cake.

“James…”

“Nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s incredible.”

“I know. You’d never think their most famous food was something served at state fairs.”

“I’d think they only ate caviar.”

“Do you want to get some?” James asks.

“Poutine?”

“Yeah.”

I look around the suite, thinking of the possibilities. “Do you want to fuck first?”

“You’ve got better ideas than me,” he says and cups my cheek. He kisses me, and that’s all it takes. My heart is soaring. I have the same rapture from when James and I first started seeing each other.

“You find a couch and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say. Yesterday evening when James was finishing up some work so he’d have less on the trip, I ran out and got some lingerie.

I walk towards what I assume is the bedroom and freeze. There’s a bouquet of flowers the size of a Vespa on a round marble table in the living room. It’s all roses. White. Red and pink. A white card lies next to it.

To Sophia,

Here’s to seeing each other for far longer than just an hour…

I smile. “This is your handwriting.” I pick up the note. “How’d you get this here before we walked in here, Houdini?”

“I mailed it. Priority. I thought a note in the handwriting of the French concierge would be a little less romantic.”

“You try hard for a guy who says love is just a chemical.”

We both freeze at my mention of the word love. It’s something that’s been between us the last two months. Something unspoken.

“Well, itisa chemical.” James comes closer, and I look into his eyes. Their emerald shine. Danger and tenderness all in one. “A very,verygood one.” He kisses me and then pulls back.

My heartbeat is strong, yet the muscle itself feels weak, like it could stop beating at any time. Is he about to say it? Before I even have the guts to myself?

“In fact, it may just be my favorite.”

“What are you saying?” I ask.

“That whatever the feeling is that dances in my heart when I’m with you is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. Stronger than success. Stronger than money…” He trails off.

I may have said these words on the ski slope, but never loud enough for him to hear.

I can’t hold it back any longer. The words jump out of my mouth like a jail break. “I love you, James.”

He smiles, but his eyes tell a different story. There’s a storm brewing in them.

“I loveyou, Sophia,” he says, and it’s like he’s never let himself realize this fact before. He looks… vulnerable. Damaged.

James Callaway. Heart splayed to the world.

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